Quantum AU
by anilkex
Summary: New Summary: A spell forces Kate to hop through an unknown number of realities, encountering various Sams, Deans, and Johns along the way. How long will the spell last? How many different Alternate Universes will she meet? This is my hat-tipping to all the creative AUs this show has inspired. Third Winchester AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: If you're not familiar with my Third Winchester AU, please check my profile. This is my first chapter fic, where the chapters actually depend on each other. I'm not sure how long it'll be, but I have quite a few AUs in mind, so it'll be going for a bit. As usual, I own nothing, just playing.**_

_**XOXOXOXOXOXO**_

"Where'd you put the beer?"

"Where do we always put the beer, Bobby? In the fridge!"

"That can't be all we bought, boy. I know we bought more'n that."

"Maybe you're just too old to remember."

"Maybe you're gonna be sleeping in the Impala tonight."

I laughed and swatted Bobby on the shoulder with a dish towel. "The beer's here somewhere, Bobby. No one drank it all."

Bobby huffed and fiddled with his baseball cap. "With your brothers, it's hard to tell."

Dean snorted from the table, where he was dutifully shucking corn, and making a ridiculous mess doing so. "I probably could, but I didn't. Did you check the cooler out back?"

Bobby stared at him. "What cooler out back?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "The one you had Adam set up earlier."

"Goddammit, I forgot about that."

Dean shrugged with his eyebrows and muttered, "I told you, you're gettin' old…"

In an act of pure maturity, Bobby stuck out his tongue and went out back to check the cooler. Dean turned to me. "Jesus Christ, what's his problem?"

I glanced out the back window before going back to the stove. "He's nervous, Dean. Ellen and Jo have never been here for a weekend. He wants it to be special."

Another eye roll. "We're grilling burgers, not throwing a banquet."

I glared at him. "This _is_ a banquet to Bobby. Be nice! Don't rattle him."

Dean flapped a hand at me, sending bits of corn husk everywhere. "Yeah, yeah. Is Dad gonna be like that, too?"

"Is Dad gonna be like what?" Dad asked, walking into the kitchen slowly, rubbing his chest.

"Ribs sore this morning?" I asked. He was still recovering from some broken ribs he got a few weeks ago.

"Yeah, a little. Nothing bad. I just…" He paused to cough. "I bent down too fast."

Dean snickered, and Dad cuffed him on the head. "What the hell - is everyone touchy today?"

"Who's touchy today?" Sam asked, strolling in.

Dean pointed at him with an ear of corn and whispered at me, "He doesn't count - he's a constant."

I giggled at Sam's confused expression. "Don't mind him. He's being an ass."

Sam snorted as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee. "When isn't he?"

I nodded in agreement. Dean threw a corn husk at Sam's head. "Hey!" Corn silk landed in his coffee, and the husk beaned him on the temple. My hand flew to my mouth to hide all traces of amusement, and before Sam could throttle Dean, Adam came running into the kitchen.

"They're here!" He flew past us, out the back door and pounded down the steps.

I deftly grabbed Sam's mug, dumped it out and began refilling it with fresh coffee. He grumbled as he picked corn silk out of his hair and Dean took that moment to disappear.

Dad just looked at me. "What the fuck was that?"

I shrugged. "Your kids, not mine."

He grunted and slowly went out back.

Sam took the fresh coffee and half-smiled a thanks. "What're you making?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the stove. "Baked beans."

Sam's eyes widened. "I'm sharing in your room tonight."

I snickered. "Your choice."

xxxxx

The afternoon went pretty fast. Dinner was delicious, and it was a real treat to see Bobby happy.

And drunk.

Holy shit, did we drink. At one point, Sam did karaoke from the hood of the Impala. That alone is a testament to how drunk Dean must have been to allow it.

Sometime in the evening, I wandered back inside to go to the bathroom. I say wandered, but I should really say _weaved_. I got through the kitchen pretty well, and when I hit the hallway, I figured I deserved a medal for not falling.

"Not falling down is always a good reason to celebrate, Kate."

_Whoa_ - I'm pretty sure I heard that out loud.

I turned a little and saw a middle aged bald guy standing in the living room. He wore a black suit coat, and a crisp white shirt. I should've yelled. Or killed him. Or something.

Instead, I said, "Well, hiya. You have, like, no hair." Then I giggled. I had no sense of alarm at his presence, and since I was incredibly drunk, I didn't find that odd.

The man smiled, and tucked his hands in his pockets. "You're right. This vessel has no hair. I like it that way. Makes things easier to manage."

I leaned against a wall, nodding. "Huh. That's a good point. No hair is a lot easier. What's your name, strange bald man in my living room?"

"Uriel. And you are Kate Winchester."

I blinked at him. "Wow. You're good."

He smiled. "You're right about that."

"So. Whatcha want? Want me to get my dad or something?"

Uriel shook his head and took a step closer. "No. I just wanted to see you for myself before I took care of some business."

I nodded again. "Oh. Well. Here I am!" Then I twirled around, grabbing at the wall for support when I realized how stupid that idea was.

Uriel chuckled. "The prophecies diverged because of you. How...amusing. Well. It was nice meeting you, Kate."

"MmmHmmm, it was nice meeting you too!" I waved at him, but he wasn't there anymore. "Huh." I said out loud, to apparently no one. "That was weird. And I still have to pee."

**xxxxx**

The next morning, I stretched lazily, feeling warm and comfortable. I didn't want to open my eyes. Opening my eyes would mean I'd have to wake up. And that would inevitably lead to not being in bed anymore. Somehow, my head didn't hurt and my stomach wasn't rolling. I wasn't about to tempt fate, so I didn't question it.

I rolled over, relishing the quiet, and wondering if Sam ever made it to my room. Well, I _was_ relishing the quiet until I heard pounding on my door.

"C'mon, Kate! Get up! We're gonna be late!" It was a girl's voice, loud and insistent, but vaguely amused.

"Go bother Adam, Jo. I'll be up later."

The door opened. The voice was much clearer, and _definitely_ not Jo's. But it _was_ familiar…

"Kate - our appointments at the salon are for eight-thirty! We gotta get a move on, lazypants! Sam will be here soon, and we have to be gone before then!"

That voice...I _know_ that voice…

_No…_

Wait…

I cracked open one eye, and there she was. Long blonde hair, swept into a ponytail, bright blue eyes and a huge smile on her face.

_Jess_.

"Um...Jess?"

She laughed and opened the door wider. "Who'd you think it was, silly? Who the hell is Jo?"

I had both eyes open now, and casually looked around my room. Well, whatever room I was in...because it wasn't mine. Posters of rock bands hung on the walls, along with a huge mirror over a desk. Photos were stuck into the frame all the way around, but I couldn't quite make out who was in them.

"Um...Jo's...a friend. Where are we going again?"

Jess rolled her eyes. "The hair salon. We have to get going! Sam and the other groomsmen are getting here soon, and we can't be here when they're here!"

Sam...groomsmen…"...because of the wedding?" I asked, feeling like the slowest kid in class.

"Oh, my God. How much did you drink last night?"

Apparently, waaaaaay too much, because this is one fucking vivid hallucination.

"Look - just get up, okay? You need to be ready to go in ten minutes!"

I licked my lips. "Ten minutes. Got it." More than enough time for me to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Jess shook a finger at me with this really stern look, before rushing over and giving me a big hug. "I'm getting married today! I'm so excited! You'll be my sister for real!" She planted a kiss on my cheek then ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

My head was now pounding. What happened?! I fumbled out of the sheets that were tangled with my legs and staggered to the desk, examining every photo stuck to that mirror.

They were of..._us_. There was Sam's graduation, Dean in front of some garage with a pretty girl, Dad and me posing with the Impala, Sam and I with a bunch of people I didn't recognize, on and on and on. They were family photos of my family in situations and places I knew never happened.

I whipped around, looking all over the room for anything familiar, anything that could tell me where I was.

There was nothing.

Realizing there wasn't much I could do at this point but go along, I hunted through drawers until I found clean clothes, got dressed, and went into the hallway.

I didn't recognize the house at all, but I was on the second floor, and the stairs weren't far away. I was about to peek inside another room when Jess bounced out of what appeared to be a bathroom. "You're up! Go to the bathroom and let's get going!" She pushed me towards the door, then sang, "We'll get Starbucks on the way!"

"_Hooooray!_" I sort-of sang back, clicking the door shut behind me. I went to the bathroom, eenie-meenie-miney-mo'd for a toothbrush, and generally cleaned up. The bathroom cabinets weren't much help. There were a couple old bottles of medication for Dad (a muscle relaxer and something I didn't recognize) and some over-the-counter boxes for heartburn and headaches.

"Fuck…" I swore, leaning heavily against the sink.

"Kaaaaaaate!" Came Jess's wail.

Rolling my eyes, I called out, "Coming!" And with that, I left the bathroom and went downstairs.

**XXXXX - TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

The living room was full of girls. Like, four or five. Which, okay, doesn't really mean full, but for me, who spent her whole life around guys, four girls is a shit ton of girls.

A brunette laughed when she saw me. "You look like you have no idea who we are!"

_You got that right, sister. _ I nervously laughed back. "_Haaaa…_.yeah, drank too much last night. You know...drinking...and...got drunk!" I sort of shrugged and made a _What Can You Do_ face. "So...where's Jess?"

Another brunette pointed behind me. "In the kitchen. Get your shoes on, woman! We gots to goooo!" Everyone else made some sort of _whoop whoop_ sound, and I wondered how I was going to do this without losing my mind.

I found Jess sitting with..._Fuck! Dad!_ "Dad!" I gushed, running to him and plastering myself to his side.

"Hey, kiddo! All set for your appointment?"

He smiled down at me, and I realized...he looked different. I stepped back and examined him more closely. No furrowed brow...no worry lines...no graying hair...no hardened features…no haunted look...

_Oh, shit._..no hunting. He doesn't hunt. I knew without even asking. I took another step backwards. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was glad - glad that he didn't have to endure the...well, the _everything_, associated with hunting. But on the other hand…

I was so screwed. How could I explain that I didn't belong here?

"Heyyyyy," I started, casually putting my hands in my pockets and trying to not look as freaked out as I felt. "Yeah, all set." I thumbed over my shoulder. "There's a lot of girls in there."

Jess and Dad shared a look. Dad put down his coffee mug and smiled. "Well, yeah...all your friends are here ready for this party to start!"

Jess giggled and gave Dad a kiss on the cheek. "Tell Mom to meet us there, okay? I don't want to rush her, but I can_not_ be here when Sam arrives!"

Dad nodded at her, and poked her on the nose. "Will do, sweetheart. Now go have fun!"

Jess bounced out of the room, and my mind was doing cartwheels. Mom? _Whose_ mom?

I rocked on my heels and nonchalantly asked, "So...where _is_ Mom?"

Dad rolled his eyes and leaned on the counter. "Next door finishing some super secret gift for Jess and Sam. I dunno what it is. I didn't ask, because I don't need one more thing to think about today."

I nodded slowly, wishing like hell there was a picture around somewhere so I could see...who Mom is. "Um...okay. Well. Great."

Dad's brow wrinkled. "You okay?"

"What? Me? Yeah - yeah I'm great! Peachy! Just...soooo excited about today, you know?" I plastered this huge grin on my face, but Dad's dad. And he always knew when something was up.

"Right. Listen, I know you're happy for them. But I know you're wondering about your own wedding someday. It'll happen, sweetheart. Don't worry about it, okay?" He walked over and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Now go have fun. I'll see you at the church." And with that, he left the kitchen, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open.

Of all the things Dad's told me not to worry about...things like..._Don't worry - you'll hit the target - this gun's just a lot bigger than what you're used to_...or..._Don't worry - Dean will snap out of the Djinn's poison spell_...or..._Don't worry - we'll figure out this Demon blood in Sam_…

"Don't worry - you, too, shall get married"...was _not_ what I _ever_ expected to come out of his mouth.

"Kaaaate! Let's roll!"

"Coming!" I called, following her voice into the living room, and then out into the waiting car.

xxxxx

Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about talking. Everyone else was too busy chattering away, giving me some time to think. The plates on the car were for Kansas, so that gave me a starting point. I figured we were in Lawrence, and signs on the street confirmed that.

I was pretty sure this wasn't a dream, but then again, when Djinn's prey off their victims, they don't know they're in a dream state either, so I guessed that was a possibility. I could be cursed into an alternate reality, but who would curse me? We haven't had a big case in a few weeks, since both Dean and Dad needed recovery time from their injuries.

If Dad didn't hunt, that meant he probably didn't know Bobby. I could look him up and see if that'll help, but explaining this would be a bitch. _If_ he's even a hunter.

I sighed.

And if Dad didn't hunt, he didn't know of the Supernatural most likely, which means Sam and Dean didn't either. A knot formed in my stomach.

_Goddammit._

I had taken a purse Jess gave me, but didn't bother to look inside. I'm not reacting in the most smooth fashion, here. Grimacing, I rooted through the bag until I found a phone. I barely contained the shout of joy, as I scrolled through the address book.

There were a ton of names I didn't know, and Mom only said Mom - no real name, and no picture. Brilliant. But there was Dean's number, so I dialed him and waited anxiously for a pickup.

"Who are you calling?" One of the girls asked. I dunno which one.

"Dean," I absently answered.

The car fell very silent, setting off my hunter alarms. I looked up to find every girl in the car staring at me. "What?" I asked.

Then they all turned to one of the brunettes who..._oh_...she's the one in the picture with Dean. On the mirror.

Oh.

_Shit_.

Her face crinkled up. "Why are you calling him? You know he's all busy with Sam, and told us not to bug them today."

I hung up, and stammered, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I, um, had a question, though, about...about something Mom's doing for Jess and...nevermind. I...just got so excited I forgot what I was doing!"

Big grin, lavish blinking, and finally, deflection. "So where's that Starbucks, huh?"

That got everyone chattering again about what they wanted to order, whether the whipped cream would make them too fat for their dresses, and I swallowed in relief. I had to pay more attention to who I was with, because obviously, I had a history here, even though I didn't know it.

I analyzed everyone in the car. The brunette was very pretty, and seemed pleasant and nice. I'm guessing she's Dean's girlfriend or…(quick check of her hand - okay, no ring…), so girlfriend. Or fuck of the month, who the hell knows. I tried to follow the conversation, and by the time we pulled into a Starbuck's drive-thru, I had some things figured out.

Dean's brunette was named Cassandra, which, given his history with Cassie, I found that kinda funny. The driver was Marinda, and in the back seats with me were Josie and Wendy. I'm not completely sure how we all fit together, but I think we all went to the same school. Which means I went to college and studied...something.

There were many missing pieces of information everyone assumed I had, so fading into the background was the best option to avoid making more mistakes like the phone call. I cradled my mocha to my chest and just listened, figuring I'd go to the bathroom at the salon and root through the rest of my purse, including the pictures on my phone.

"So Cassie," Marinda began as she pulled back into traffic. "When will Dean pop the question, hmm?"

Everyone giggled, and I choked on my coffee at the image of Dean proposing to anyone, let alone seeing them more than twice in a week.

Cassandra shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "I don't know. He has that trip to Hawaii planned in a couple weeks...and he's been talking more and more about the future and kids and stuff. I dunno. Maybe Sam taking the lead is making him think about it more."

Jess turned in the front seat and smiled at her. "He loves you, Cassie, you know that. He's been with you for three years, now! He'll ask! Right, Kate?"

Fuck...all eyes were on me. Maybe I could spill this mocha on my lap and distract them. "Um...yeah. I mean, you know how Dean is. He's a slow learner." I figured that was generic enough. Pleased with myself, I dove into my coffee, thinking my contribution was over.

So when Cassandra asked, "Has he said anything to you at all? I mean, you guys are so close…"

This couldn't be a Djinn world, because in no way was I enjoying this. "No...but if he did, he'd kill me if I told you." Everyone nodded, and I felt _sooo_ bad when Cassandra's face fell. So I added, "But he didn't...and I'd totally rat him out if he did."

That did the trick, because everyone was back to chattering again, leaving me alone for the rest of the ride.

**xxxxx**

I wasn't really sure how I felt about Dean dating someone. Which is totally weird and messed up. I mean, I was obviously good with Sam and Jess (in my world) because she and I were good friends. I trusted her with Sam. Dean, though...well. Ever since Cassie in my reality fucked him over, I've been really content with him just flitting from girl to girl, never letting it get serious. As tough as Dean presents himself, he's incredibly sensitive and emotional, and a Hurt Dean is the worst thing to deal with...ever.

I'd have to watch this Cassandra and make sure she's a good fit for him.

…

But this isn't my world so I don't know what the hell I'm worried about.

We parked at the salon, which was some super fancy place that offered all sorts of spa treatments in addition to just cutting hair. We walked inside, and were greeted by an obnoxiously friendly woman who took us in back where stylists were waiting for our arrival.

Let me pause to say that this is, hands down, the most girly thing I've ever done in my life outside of getting my period. I have never, _ever_, spent this much time with estrogen that wasn't a victim or not human...if monsters even _have_ estrogen.

I'll have to ask my Sam about that.

Anyway, we were led to a small area, and everyone was claimed by a stylist, except me. I stood awkwardly, toying with the lid of my latte and wondering if this was a good time to slip off to the bathroom, when a large, bald, African American man approached me. "Well hello, there. You can come sit with me over here." He waved to a chair off on the side, completely apart from everyone else.

After a quick glance at Jess, who was animatedly talking with her stylist about some Roman-esque updo (whatever the fuck that is), I nodded, flashed him a quick smile, and followed him to the chair. I'll run to the bathroom later.

The stylist began talking, while idly brushing my hair. "You look very out of place. Aren't you excited about the wedding?"

I set my drink on the counter and sat back with a huff. "No...I mean yes - I'm… I'm super excited. Just...yeah...feeling a little out of place, this morning."

He nodded knowingly, and paused the brushing to place both hands on the back of my chair. I looked in the mirror and narrowed my eyes. "You look familiar. Which, believe me, is a very odd thing for me today."

He smiled, and I felt a chill down my spine. The smile wasn't friendly. "I _should_ look familiar, Kate. We met last night. In Mr. Singer's living room." I sat up straight and sucked in a breath. One of his enormous hands clamped down on my shoulder, keeping me in my seat. "Do you remember now?"

My mind raced - the BBQ, Jo and Ellen, Sam singing karaoke, I went inside..._Uriel!_

"Your name is Uriel," I offered, in a shaky voice. Through the mirror, I glanced at the girls, all oblivious to this exchange.

Uriel shook the chair, forcing my attention back to him. Nodding slowly, he said, "That's right. You _do_ remember, despite all that drinking. That's promising, Kate. It really is."

"What's going on? What are you?" I demanded. I wasn't about to offer ideas or suggestions - I figured he should just tell me straight out what was what.

"What am I? I'm an angel, Kate. A _real_ angel, who understands true consequences of actions."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Uriel _tsk-tsk'd_ and pulled my hair. "Language, young lady. It means that angels are not meant to consort with humans, and it means that humans are supposed to play their assigned parts in celestial prophecies." He leaned down, and whispered in my ear. "They are not to deviate from the plan."

I glared at him through the mirror. He was taking a dig at Castiel, that much I could tell. But the rest of it…"What role am I supposed to play?"

He straightened and fussed with my hair. "A backseat role. But instead, you're a major player, now, and that's no good. So I decided to teach you a lesson, so you understand exactly what your presence impacts, so you can make better choices in the future. I'm letting you see the different paths that were created because of you."

Now, I'm a fairly intelligent person. But Uriel wasn't making sense to me. "How is my existence my fault? And wouldn't these paths exist even without me? Or are you saying there's always only been one path, which kinda defies modern scientific theory. Not to mention that these paths were in motion before I was even born." I'm kinda cheeky when being messed with.

Uriel sneered, and I swore the room got darker. "Enjoy figuring out every world you enter."

"How do I get home?"

Uriel snapped his fingers, and my hair was pulled into a bun, with curly tendrils bouncing past my temples. "You don't."

Then he left.

**xxxxx**

Normally, I'm the calm one in the family. I tend to take things in stride, try not to make waves, and look at all options carefully before making decisions. Right now, though, I was in full on panic mode. I was with my family, but completely alone.

Fucking angels.

Castiel did say there was some contention in heaven, so I'm guessing this is part of it. And perhaps my...interest...in Castiel got someone's attention. It would explain why he hasn't really been around.

My heart hammering in my chest, I fumbled for my phone and began scrolling through the pictures. Lots of people I didn't know, some scenery, and…

_Oh_.

Sarah - _my_ mom - was sitting in the living room of that house with Dad. They were posing with Sam and Jess, with Jess holding out her hand. I'm guessing her engagement ring is on it.

Well, that answers one question.

Other pictures were of Dean making stupid faces, Sam trying to hide from me, and another...was of the three of us, sitting on the Impala.

At least she's still around.

I peeked in the mirror to check on the girls - they were all still being worked on, so I decided to check the address book. Aside from family, I didn't recognize the names. Bobby, Rufus, Ellen, Jo...not even Adam...were there.

Sighing, I shoved the phone back in my bag and gnawed on a nail. Okay. So if this is really happening, and I'm really here...then there's nothing I can do but go along with everything. Today is a clusterfuck because of the wedding. But tomorrow...tomorrow I can figure out something.

**xxxxx**

By the time we got to the church, I felt more nauseous than in the salon. I was going to see my brothers, and they won't even know who I am. My mom never showed, instead texting Jess saying that she'd see us at the church.

As Miranda pulled into the parking lot, I squinted at the building. It looked a little familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

Everyone skittered inside, with me cautiously following behind. Churches mean holy ground, so at least no demons will be here.

I followed the group into one of the back rooms, where bridal gowns were hung on a wall. Cue more squealing and excited chatter.

What really really sucked, was that this event should be incredibly happy and exciting. We all wanted Sam to marry Jess, even though we were hunting. We wanted them happy, we wanted Sam-Jess rugrats and the whole deal. Now, I'm getting that moment, and I'm so happy to see Jess again..._alive_...and it's all tainted with the knowledge that while real, it isn't real.

"It's real, Kate. Of that, you can be sure."

I whipped around.

_Castiel_.

I was about to launch myself into his arms, but he held up a hand and nodded at the girls. "They can't see or hear me. So act...casual...and think your words instead."

_What the holy fuck is going on, Cas? What do you mean this is real? It's not my real! Do you know that Uriel is behind this? Is my family, in my world, okay?_

Cas's eyes widened and he blinked a few times at the barrage of questions.

"Kate! Let's get dressed!"

"In a minute," I called over my shoulder. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Well, hurry up!"

Yeah yeah - that's all I've been told today. "I will!" I said, gesturing with my head for Cas to follow me.

I led him into the hallway and backtracked to a bathroom I saw on the way to the gown room. I opened the door, waited for him to enter, then slammed it shut and locked the door. In an urgent whisper, I ground out, "What is going on! Why is Uriel so pissed at me?"

Cas sighed, and leaned against the sink. "There are many different things in play right now, Kate. One of which, yes, is Uriel. He was ordered to sever my ties with you." Sad, blue eyes looked at me. "I wasn't supposed to meet with you until...until other events occurred. I...intervened at Adam's house when I shouldn't have. So now, you are being punished for my impatience."

I blinked at him. "And the other layers of bullshit?"

Cas winced. "I told you there were warring factions in heaven. The side Uriel represents wants the Apocalypse to occur, and they feel that interfering with you will ensure that event."

I threw my hands into the air. "I told you, I'm not that important to this storyline! Yes, okay, I'm important to my family, but that's it! I have no influence anywhere else!"

Cas tilted his head to the side. "And you have no understanding how important the Winchester line is. Kate, I cannot undo the spell Uriel cast. It simply must run its course. In the meantime, your family in your world is safe and asleep. They have no idea this is happening."

"Well, wake them the fuck up and tell them so they can figure out how to get me home!"

Another fucking sigh. "I can't do that. Your world is in a slight time stasis right now - where time is moving a bit slower. _Your_ consciousness is _here_, in _this_ Kate's body, and _this_ Kate's soul is _there_, sleeping. Every Kate you inhabit will swap places with you. If your real body wakes, then every consciousness you encounter during this spell will be faced with your world, and most likely will never recover from the shock."

I slid down the wall to the floor, my head in my hands. "Oh my God. How long will I be stuck here?"

"In this world? I have no idea. How many other worlds? Again, I am unsure. I am meeting with the opposition, and we'll try to figure something out." He slid to the floor next to me and took my hand in his. "I'm so very sorry, Kate. I will try to find you every time you shift into another world. If I can, I will fill you in on the circumstances. If I can't...I will find someone who can. It's all I can do for now."

I blinked back tears and wiped my nose. "Okay. Well. At least I'm not in danger, right? I'm just in a wedding." I huffed a laugh and thunked my head against the wall. "Wait - will Uriel interfere with these timelines? Or the boys in my world while I'm leaping all over the place?"

Cas shook his head. "I don't believe so. As monumental as this seems right now, it's actually barely noticeable in your world." He hung his head. "I truly am sorry. This is my fault."

I took his hand in mine and squeezed it. "Yeah, well, it's okay. I just have amazing taste in boyfriends." He looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "I mean, not that you're my boyfriend. I'm just saying...I mean…"

He smiled. "I know what you mean. And I'm afraid that my...interest in you is what caused this to happen in the first place." His eyes got that faraway look, and I knew what was coming. "I have to go." He hauled me to my feet and stared into my eyes. "Be careful."

And then I was alone.

xxxxx

I slowly walked back into the gown room, deciding that if I'm really stuck here, for now, I should make the best of it. There's nothing to fight, nothing I can do but...enjoy the wedding that should've taken place in my world. I mentally shook myself, and walked into the room, only to stop and stare.

There was Jess, in the middle of the room, in her wedding gown. I have no idea what the correct terms are to describe her dress. There were sparkling things, and it hugged her in all the right places, and the train ran the length of the room.

She was fucking beautiful.

"Oh, Jess," I breathed, and I felt the tears well in my eyes.

"What do you think?" She asked, a huge smile on her face. She twirled a little, and everyone looked to me for some sort of approval.

All I could say was, "You look perfect. Absolutely...perfect." Then the tears fell. They fell for my Sam, who would never see this. They fell for my Dean, who deserved this. They fell for my Dad, because he had this, and it was taken away.

"Oh goodness, Kate, you'd think _you_ were giving her away today!"

That voice was like a splash of ice cold water on my face. I spun around, and there stood..._my_ mom. An older version of her, but still her, and not drugged out or as a hideous monster.

"Mom…" I breathed, and I buried myself in her arms.

"What in the world...Kate Winchester, are you alright?" She laughed as she hugged me, but I could hear the worry.

I straightened and wiped my eyes, aware of everyone staring at the weirdo sister-in-law-to-be sobbing at a wedding gown. "Yeah, just...emotional day, you know?"

Good grief.

Mom nodded and put her hands on my arms. "Come on, sweetie - let's get your makeup done, and then get you into your dress!"

**xxxxx**

When all the face painting and dressing up was finished, I had to admit...I was smokin'. I mean, I know there's all this hype about bridesmaid dresses and stuff, but these were really pretty, and I looked pretty darn good in it. I was admiring myself in the mirror, alone in one of the dressing rooms, forgetting that I was in an alternate universe and just sort of...enjoying this...when I heard sighing behind me.

"Wow...you look great, sis."

I froze, wishing the mirror were angled a little better so I wasn't caught off guard. I'm still a fucking hunter, I chastised myself, as I turned around.

There stood Dean, all dressed up in a tuxedo, his hair a little longer than what I'm used to, and his eyes...like Dad's...lacked that haunted look.

"Hey…" I was torn between running to him and keeping my distance. I wasn't sure what kind of relationship we had here. Cassandra said we were close but…

"Don't I get a hug or anything?"

...well, okay then. I carefully walked over (fucking heels) and gave him a hug, squeezing tight once I felt his arms around me. It doesn't matter if it's my Dean or AU Dean...Dean hugs are Dean hugs. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. "I can't believe they're finally getting married."

You have noooooo idea.

"Heh...yeah. It's...yeah." I stepped back and stared at the floor. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Dean gave me a weird look. "What do you mean? You thought they'd break up?"

I have _got_ to stop talking out loud. I shook my head. "Nonono, just...wow! It's here already! Time flies!" Am I destined to look like a moron in every universe?

He nodded slowly, looking at me like I lost my mind. "Yeah...okay. Dad was lookin' for you. Said you were a little weird this morning...wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ha-haaaaaaaaa…."I'm fine. Too much to drink last night, that's all." I gave him that fake smile I've been making all day, and to my surprise, it worked.

He shook his head. "Two Bicardi Breezes and you're done. Such a lightweight."

I opened my mouth to object, and point out that I actually consumed more than my fair share of beer, not to mention a few shots...but that wasn't _this_ last night. So lightweight drinker it is. "Yeah, well. You know me!"

Dean laughed. "C'mon. Let's get upstairs. Sam'll want to see you before we start."

He took my hand and led me out of the room.

In the hallway, he leaned down and murmured, "Hey. Your time will come, Kate. Don't worry."

What the fuck _is_ this? Is this Kate whining about being single? Am I allowed to bitchslap my alternate self? Rolling my eyes, I said, "Not a big deal, Dean. Cassandra is wondering when you're poppin' the question. So maybe look within, Grasshopper, instead of at me."

Dean stopped, eyes wide and faced me. "You didn't tell her the plan, did you?"

I scoffed, playing the part of someone who really knows what's going on. "Of course not! She is suspecting your Hawaii trip, though."

"Ha! Perfect. Hopefully she'll keep thinkin' that."

We went upstairs, and saw everyone but the bride gathered in the front hallway area. Towering over everyone else, was Sam, looking nervous as hell, but happy. _Really_ happy. He was talking to Mom and Dad, and looked up when we walked in.

He excused himself and practically ran over. "Hey...wow...you look great!" He grinned and enveloped me in a huge hug.

Those mixed emotions slammed me once again - happiness that this Sam is marrying Jess, but heartbreak that my Sam lost her forever. I squeezed him back, and forced myself not to cry. "Thanks! You look so...handsome and...awesome. Both of you."

They both blushed, grinning like little kids who just got a boatload of candy.

"I know you're supposed to be with Jess, but...I wanted to see you first."

I honestly didn't know what to say. I was facing my rocks - my constants - and they weren't my constants...and I was just at a loss for words. So I just stood there, and smiled at them, drinking in their innocence, their joy, their youth.

"Let's get a quick family photo, okay folks? Stand together…"

The photographer began ordering us around, and soon Dad, Mom, Dean, Sam and I were all together, grinning like idiots for the camera.

What I wouldn't give to have a copy of that photo.

xxxxx

The ceremony was perfect and beautiful, and I did cry starting about halfway through. Well, shit, so was everyone else! I was beginning to hope that my time here would never end...that...that I could make this reality work for me. My mind wandered towards the end of the ceremony, as I watched Sam kiss Jess, Dean wink at Cassandra, and Dad holding Mom's hand.

Yeah, I really could.

And that's when I spied Pastor Jim in the congregation, and that's when I remembered where I've seen this church before.

Sam had some old photos from before Dad added me to the family. They were of this church, and a priest called Pastor Jim, who was also a hunter. He helped Dad from time to time with the boys when Bobby's was too far away, and he was a good friend.

It occurred to me...Pastor Jim's involvement with hunting had nothing to do with Dad...so if magic and monsters existed here, perhaps Pastor Jim was still a hunter. And if so...he could help. He would understand.

The rest of the service passed in a blur, and it was difficult to appear like I was totally enraptured, while also calculating what to do next.

Sam told me about Jim's hidden storeroom, way in the back, behind what looked like a closet. I figured I'd check there, and if Jim was indeed a hunter, then I'd talk with him.

We exited the church, the rice flew, and the happy couple climbed into their limo. I turned to Dad, "When do we need to be at the hall?"

He checked his watch. "There's time. You're supposed to get pictures taken, though."

I flapped a hand at him, my eyes on the entryway to the church. "Yeah...I know. I need to get something I left behind. I'll be right back."

"Hurry up," Dad ordered, as I removed my heels and flew up the front steps.

I waved over my shoulder, and heard Dean asking, "Where's she goin'?"

I ran towards the altar, and off to the right, to the rooms behind. I stopped right outside the door, took a deep breath, and went inside. No one was there. The room looked like a huge closet, with several priest robes hanging neatly along one wall, and other accessories along another. Sam said you had to move the robes aside, and the secret door was there.

I checked behind several robes, and was about to give up, until I found an alcove in the room, where a short closet pole was braced between two walls. Swallowing hard, I walked towards the robes, and slid them apart. There, in front of me, was a door, marked with a Devil's Trap.

_Yahtzee_.

"May I help you with something?"

I turned around and there stood Pastor Jim, holding a bottle of what I assumed was holy water. I held up my hands. "Pastor Jim, right?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Kate, you know who I am. Unless you aren't Kate Winchester." Then he flung holy water at me, which, of course, just got me wet.

I grimaced and wiped the dripping water off my face, noting the confused look on his face. "I'm not possessed, Pastor, but I'm not exactly Kate Winchester...at least not _your_ Kate Winchester."

"Okay...keep talking…" He tried to stealthily pull a knife from his pocket, presumably silver.

I sighed and held out my arm. "I'm not a shifter either. Cut me and see for yourself."

Jim's eyes widened, and he took a quick swipe at me, making a two inch cut on my forearm. Other than a mild sting, I had no real reaction, making him even more confused. "Listen...I don't have a lot of time before someone comes looking for me. I _am_ Kate Winchester, but from another universe. I got zapped here by...well, by an angel, who's a little pissed off with me."

"Angels? Really?" His voice held a touch of disbelief.

I put my hands on my hips. "You believe in demons, why not angels? Look - in my world, we discovered them about a year ago. Some are okay, others not so much. In my world, John Winchester is one of the best hunters alive. And you helped him get started when the boys were little."

Jim's eyes got wider. "You know about hunting? How - "

I had to get this story down to a science or I was gonna be wasting a lot of time in the future. "Sam and Dean's real mom - it's not Sarah, right? It's Mary?"

Jim nodded, slipping the knife back into his pocket.

"Well, in my world, Mary was killed by a yellow-eyed demon, sending John on the hunting path. Look - we can sit and play catch-up later. I just...I'm just relieved that you hunt. After this wedding, can we meet and talk? I need to get back to my own world, and I don't have a clue how to do that, especially since my whole family doesn't hunt, here!"

Jim looked plain flustered, and I was practically panting from talking so fast. I felt like I was dumping the summary of a novel that you can normally read on the back cover of a book. He fumbled with the cap from the bottle of holy water and nodded. "Yes, we can...we can talk later. I may even call for some help."

Hope sparked. "Do you know a Bobby Singer?"

His brow furrowed. "Singer? No...I don't, I'm sorry."

I waved him off. "That's okay - it was a long shot."

"So...you are Kate, but not the Kate that belongs in this world, and you hunt in your world, with John, Sam, and Dean?"

I nodded, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Huh. We definitely need to talk, then. But for now…"

"Kate! Where are you? We need you for pictures!"

Jim shoved the water aside just as Dean walked in. "What - oh, hey Jim. Have you seen - Kate? What're you doing? Why are you wet, and what the heck happened to your arm?"

I looked down, the cut from the silver knife was bleeding. "Oh...um…"

"Kate cut herself when she tripped near the baptismal font, and splashed water on herself." I stared at Jim, who lied as smoothly as my Dean does. But what a ridiculous story. He'll never -

"Geez, Kate, you're such a klutz!" Dean pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped my arm with it.

"Let me get my first aid kit. I'm sure I have a bandaid in there." Jim went back into the larger room, and pulled a lunchbox med kit from under a table. I pretended not to notice the inscriptions along the side.

As Jim pulled out medical supplies, and Dean made these mother hen clucking noises at me, I started to feel light headed.

"Kate? Kate - are you okay? Shit - she's gonna faint!"

Then everything went black.

xxxxx

I woke to someone shaking me. Really, really fucking hard. I snapped, "I know, I know - we have to take pictures!" I was trying to force my eyes open, but they felt really heavy.

"Pictures? For fuck's sake, Kate, wake up. They're coming, and we have to run!"

That did it. My eyes snapped open, and bending over me was..._fuck...Mary Winchester_, a frantic look on her face. "Hurry up - the boys are watching the front door, but they'll be here any minute!"

"What? Who - "

"The demons, Kate! Wake the fuck up and get moving!" Dad bellowed at me as he ran through the room, loading a shotgun with what I guessed were salt rounds.

I struggled out of bed, just as Mary threw a backpack at me.

"Out the back door, now! Run!"

==TBC==


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: This chapter is a little rough. Just sayin'.**_

_**XXXXX**_

_**Previously on Quantum AU…**_

I woke to someone shaking me. Really, really fucking hard. I snapped, "I know, I know - we have to take pictures!" I was trying to force my eyes open, but they felt really heavy.

"Pictures? For fuck's sake, Kate, wake up. They're coming, and we have to run!"

That did it. My eyes snapped open, and bending over me was..._fuck...Mary Winchester_, a frantic look on her face. "Hurry up - the boys are watching the front door, but they'll be here any minute!"

"What? Who - "

"The demons, Kate! Wake the fuck up and get moving!" Dad bellowed at me as he ran through the room, loading a shotgun with what I guessed were salt rounds.

I struggled out of bed, just as Mary threw a backpack at me.

"Out the back door, now! Run!"

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

I barely caught the backpack before Mary pushed me towards a doorway. I plowed through it, finding myself in a wooded backyard, with no fucking clue where to go. I skidded to a halt, eyes scanning every which way, trying to determine which way I was supposed to run. I heard a screechy whooshing noise, and when I looked up, I almost passed out again.

Swirls of black smoke circled above the house, zigzagging and crisscrossing so much that to try and follow the patterns meant nausea for sure.

"Quit staring and fucking run!" Mary blew past me, grabbing my arm and dragging me behind her. We plunged into the trees and it was all I could do to keep my balance and keep up.

"Dad…" I started, just as a branch smacked me in the face, shutting me up.

"Don't worry about him. You know the drill. He'll find us. Keep moving!"

Her grip didn't lessen the further we got from the house. I had absolutely no sense of where we were. By now, I was fully awake and tuned into my surroundings, but the terrain was so unfamiliar and we were moving so fast, I had no opportunity to place any landmarks.

After several minutes, Mary slowed down, finger on her lips indicating silence (no shit). She moved us stealthily between the trees, her footing so sure that I knew this route was planned. Eventually we came to what appeared to be a dense cluster of trees and bushes. And at a casual glance, that's exactly what it was. But I wasn't looking at it casually.

Something was off with the whole arrangement. And sure enough, Mary dropped my hand, walked to the third tree on the right, and simply pushed the trunk aside, waving me past it.

Eyes wide and heart hammering, I went through the tiny opening, and found myself in a small "room". Mary followed me inside and sealed up the secret doorway behind us.

It was completely dark, I had no idea where my dad and brothers were, and I was standing in a secret hiding spot with someone who, in my reality, has been dead for twenty-four years. I was a thankful for one minute of not-running-for-my-life so I could process everything.

Obviously I shifted or phased or leaped, or whatever science fiction term applied to what I was doing. Last thing I remember was feeling dizzy at the church. Maybe that was the warning signal that I was moving on? I figured I'd know when I left this world.

So far, I had no interaction with Dad or the boys, so I couldn't tell what they were like. Obviously, they hunt. Obviously, we were in a life threatening situation.

Not so obviously was this million dollar question: How did I enter this picture if Mary isn't dead?

Speaking of Mary, I couldn't see her, but I felt her presence. She was standing close to me, not touching, but close enough so I could feel her breath on my hair. There was a faint smell of whiskey and sweat, which I'd always attributed to Dad. I swallowed hard and bit my lip to keep from blurting out a dozen questions which would not only make me look stupid, but would also make me look suspicious. If we were dealing with major demon activity, the last thing I wanted was appear possessed to a wartime Dad.

Call me brilliant, but something told me that life in this reality was not easy.

After a few minutes, Mary let out a breath, and tugged on my sleeve. She sat on the ground and kept tugging until I did the same. Once seated, her hand gripped my elbow tight enough to make me want to cry out. Her mouth was against my ear, and she breathed, "The next time you don't fucking run when I tell you to fucking run, I'll clip you myself and let the demons have you. Prophecy be damned. Got me?"

_Whoa…_

I nodded, swallowing really hard.

She nodded back and let go of me, giving my arm a little shove. I resisted the urge to massage what I suspected would turn into a major bruise.

Okay.

_Okayokayokay_.

I'm running for my life from demons and my only source of knowledge is hostile. Fanfuckingtastic.

I fervently wished for Dad and the boys to hurry up so I could start piecing this reality together.

**xxxxx**

I have no idea how long we sat there, but if I had to guess, I'd go with about half an hour. That's thirty minutes of me sitting on the cold ground next to someone whose hate I could feel from a foot away.

Finally, I felt her move, so I sharpened every sense I had to figure out why.

It didn't take long.

There was faint rustling outside the shelter, I turned toward the sound and held my breath. Mary slowly got to her feet. I was about to follow until I felt a hand on my shoulder, pushing me down, so I stayed put.

There was another rustling noise, then another, and I realized there was a pattern to the sounds. Mary did too, because she opened the shelter flap and stepped outside.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, barely. Killed four, the rest took off. Just wanted to make sure they were gone before coming after you."

_Dad_.

I wanted to run outside and into his arms, but I remembered that I wanted to run outside and into the arms of _my_ dad. I had no idea whether _this_ John Winchester even liked me.

"C'mon out, Kate," Mary ordered.

Clutching the backpack to my chest, I crawled outside and stood up, stretching my cramped muscles. In the moonlight, I could see Dad, looking even more battle-worn than in my world. He had grimace lines on his face, and a hardness to him that made my heart ache. Mary stood apart from him, arms folded across her chest, eyes scanning the area.

Figuring I needed to say something, I asked, "Where are the boys?"

"Here," a voice said, and two boys emerged from the trees behind Dad.

I almost..._almost_...went to them. Except…

There was Dean, tall and muscular, with a patch over one eye and an ugly scar blanketing the same (right) side of his face. His eyes were narrowed, his stance tense. He looked young, like twenty or so.

That made me wonder - was I traveling through time as well as realities?

Apparently I was, because next to Dean stood...Adam. A very young Adam, maybe twelve? Thirteen? Just as tense, just as angry, just as unfriendly.

And no Sam.

No one seemed concerned that he was missing, so I didn't ask. I knew I'd have to figure that one out on my own.

Dean took a step towards me, and stupid me, thinking he was going for a hug, took a step towards him, a small smile forming on my face. Until his sneer stopped me, melting the smile right the fuck off. "Next time Mom tells you to move, _you fucking move_. I'm not gonna die because you're too stupid to follow directions." For one second, I thought he was actually going to hit me. But instead, he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and turned away.

I think hitting me would've been preferable to the cold way he looked at me. And Dad said nothing to help.

Thinking fast, I stammered, "I...I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Adam's expression softened a little. "Let's get to the next outpost. It isn't safe out here."

Dad nodded, shouldered a bag, and gestured with his head. "Let's go."

I followed behind Dean and Adam, noting that despite all the threats, I wasn't last in line, which I found odd. Mary led the way, and Dad brought up the rear.

There was no opportunity for conversation, and no way I was remotely comfortable holding one, so I kept my mouth shut and walked. After I got in the rhythm of nighttime forest walking, I started doing some math. If Dean looked around twenty, and Adam looked around twelve, then that means I'm about fourteen. That explains why, in the moonlight, the ground doesn't look so far away.

Despite the body change, I managed to keep my footing and not stumble, which probably would've earned me more scolding. Adam let Dean pass him, and walked next to me. He leaned over and whispered, "You're doing a lot better, tonight."

_Well, sure. This consciousness has almost ten more years of terrain walking experience._ I flashed a quick grin, hoping the friendly attitude would continue. "I'm trying not to get in trouble."

He nodded, then added, "Maybe try that more often." He jogged a little, resuming his spot behind Mary, leaving me sighing and wishing for a dizzy spell to get me out of here.

Dad pushed me a little from behind. "Keep moving."

**xxxxx**

When we were kids, Dad taught us how to gauge distance while walking. In my defence, I was too disoriented to focus when Mary first woke me. Now, though, I was completely "on", and I sent a silent thanks to Dad for all his training.

We walked for at least ten miles, so at about fifteen minutes a mile, that put us two and a half hours later. The moon was crescent shaped, so I connected the "horns" of the shape, marking South, so I knew we were walking West.

Part of me wanted to share all this with the family, since I gathered that this Kate wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, let alone the most skilled. But I couldn't make things worse for her when she returned, so again, I kept my mouth shut and continued walking.

We hit a field, full of swaying prairie grass. In the middle of the field sat a cabin, no lights, no signs of life, nothing. Why put a safe house in the middle of an open field?

We stopped, catching our breath, and Dad pulled one of those cell phones that doubles as a walkie-talkie out of his pocket. He hit a couple buttons, then snapped, "We're here."

There was a quiet breeze, and the grass swayed a bit more. On closer inspection, the grass actually moved...like, parted almost...providing a path for us to follow.

Dad shoved the phone back in his pocket and nodded towards the cabin. "Let's go. Stay on the path."

Mary led the way across the field, following the twists and turns before us. I was extra careful not to stray, sure that I didn't want to know what would happen if I did.

We reached the door, and Mary pounded on it with her fist. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the moon. No one would make eye contact with me. I shifted my backpack and held it tighter against my chest.

To say I hated this reality was an understatement.

The door opened, and we all stepped inside. It slammed shut behind us, and as the various locks and switches were activated, I chanced a look around.

We stood in a kitchen, a table and chairs occupying most of the space. Dean went straight for the fridge, asking, "Got any beer?" as he whipped the door open.

"Basement. Don't keep that shit up here."

I whipped around at that voice. _Bobby!_

He had no beard, and no baseball cap, but it was still Bobby. Same gruff exterior, same, crabby tone, same -

"What the fuck are you lookin' at?"

- same nothing.

I swallowed my sigh and stared at the floor. "Nothing," I answered.

"Damn right, it's at nothing. Jesus Christ, John, how do you deal with her all the fucking time?"

Dad shook his head. "No fucking clue, Rob. Sometimes I wonder if we shoulda let Lucifer have her all those years ago."

Dean piped up, "At least then Sam would still be here."

There was a collective grunt of agreement, before Mary cut them off. "Let's head downstairs and regroup."

Everyone started moving before I was done processing. Did they really not care that I was _right fucking there? _And what the hell did he mean by Sam still being here?

This time, I was last in line to hit the basement. Mary pointed at a small cot in a corner. "Go sit down, and stay out of the way."

Nodding, I cautiously walked to the questionable bed, and sat down, scooting until my back was against the wall but so I could see the whole room.

No one else was there, so it was easy to keep track of conversations and movement. The last thing I wanted was for one of them deciding I should be with Lucifer, whatever the hell that means (and hey - Lucifer is _real_? Come on...). I took this opportunity to slow my heart rate so I didn't go into cardiac arrest, and began rooting through my backpack for clues.

Inside, I found an old leather journal, weathered and cracked. It kinda looked like Dad's journal, but it was a different color. Inside, I found entries written by, well, me.

_May 1_

_Well, tomorrow is Sam's birthday and everyone is in a bad mood. When isn't everyone in a bad mood? They still blame me for his death. But they're wrong. I had no choice but to make that deal. Don't they understand that Lucifer can't rise from Hell? They're so fucking dumb. I hate them. _

My hand flew to my mouth. Oh God…

_May 5_

_The brat's birthday wasn't so bad this year. Dean got too drunk to fuck me, but Adam didn't. Adam's gentler anyway, so I didn't mind. Mary was so plastered, she passed out while Dad was fucking her. How do I know? He yelled at her right when he figured it out. Too funny. I hope he hits her later._

Bile rose in my throat.

_June 24_

_Lucifer tried to reach me in my dreams, again. But I was ready for him. I sleep with a silver knife under my pillow, now, and I trained myself to act even though he tries to keep me unconscious. I stabbed my side, and woke up. Then I was able to ward myself better. I was aiming for my arm, but I guess I don't have the best aim when asleep, huh? I almost hit Dean instead. That's what he gets for sneaking in my bed at night. He probably won't do that again. Asshole._

After making sure no one was watching, I lifted my shirt, and sure enough, there was a scar on my right side. From the looks of it, it wasn't that old, so today's date can't be that far away from June 24.

_July 23_

_We're almost at the site. I can feel it calling me. I'm ready for the ritual. But I don't trust Dad or that bitch he revived to not let me die. So I had to make alternate plans for my own survival. I guess if there's an entry in here after August 14, you'll know it worked out._

Sick. That's how I felt. Absolutely sick. That was the last entry, and I couldn't bring myself to read any earlier. I set the book aside and, with shaking hands, searched the rest of the bag. To my surprise, I found Bear, ripped and filthy, but there, shoved in the bottom corner. I held him tight, figuring he wasn't something that could be evil. There wasn't much else of interest - a t-shirt, a seriously old candy bar, and a crumpled up piece of paper.

I patted down my pockets - no knife. Maybe I left it behind in that house? Under the pillow? This Kate will be downright pissed when she figures that out. Sighing, I shoved everything back in the bag and leaned against the wall, using every ounce in me not to cry.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I can't stay here. I cannot, for another second, stay here. Never in my life have I wished to be dizzy.

But nothing happened.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I leaned my head against my arms and watched the others. Everyone was talking in low voices, beers in hand and casting glances my way every once in a while. At one point, Dean licked his lips and leered at me, mouthing "Later" at me.

Kill me now.

I rubbed my temples, noticing a headache blooming behind my eyes. I was so busy wallowing in self-pity that I almost missed the ruffle of feathers.

_Almost_.

Looking up, I saw Castiel blink into sight.

"'Bout time, Cas. Where've you been?" Dad demanded, slamming his beer on a small table.

"Busy, Winchester. I'm not your servant." This Castiel was tougher. He didn't stare at these humans all doe-eyed, and his speech lacked that hesitant lilt I was fond of. If I didn't fear for my life, I would have laughed at Castiel in a leather jacket and jeans.

Not that he looked bad in them, it just didn't fit his persona.

Well. _My_ Castiel's persona.

His brow furrowed, and he turned towards me. He raised his chin at me. "Who are you?"

_Oh goddamn fucking fuck…_

Mary stepped up to him. "What do you mean, Cas?"

He pointed at me. "That's not Kate. At least not _your_ Kate."

All eyes were now on me, and if hostile was what I felt earlier, it paled in comparison to what I felt now. I pressed myself against the wall, even though there was not even an inch of space for me to crawl into and hide.

Dean pushed his way past Cas and grabbed me by the arms, hauling me to my feet. "He asked you a question, bitch!"

My mind raced, trying to find the best way to explain this. "I _am_ Kate...just...just not _your_ Kate. I'm from another universe..."

Then something happened that I never, in a million years, thought would happen.

Dean slapped me, hard, right across the face, then dropped me onto the cot. He pulled his gun and primed it. "Say the word, Cas, and I'll waste her right now."

My head slammed against the wall, and the room spun.

Cas grated, "Do it."

I'm pretty sure I heard the gun go off before I lost consciousness.

**XXXXX**

When I woke, I woke with style. Flailing arms, screaming, crying, the whole nine yards. I couldn't stop. Panic coursed through me, along with the sound of that gun echoing in my head.

"What the hell, Kate? Calm down! It's okay - you're dreaming! Jesus Christ you gave me a heart attack!"

_Sam?! _

I opened my eyes, and there he was, worry and amusement all over his face. "Sam!" I yelled, launching myself in his arms, and sobbing like a baby.

"Whoa! Dude - you're not little anymore!" He chuckled, and held me close, resting his chin on my head and rocking back and forth.

Truth be told, it took me a while to settle down. I mean, just a second ago Sam was dead by my hands and Dean was a child rapist who probably just killed my other me because my love interest told him to.

I figured I deserved a five minute meltdown.

When the crying slowed to the occasional hiccup, Sam kissed the top of my head and pulled away to look into my eyes. "All okay, now? Can I go to class without worrying about you ending up in a hospital or something?" He gently wiped my eyes and smiled that fucking Sam smile.

"Fuck, Sam, I had the worst dream ever. You were dead, and...um..._class_?"

**xxxx TBC xxxx**


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews and follows! Here's Chapter 4!_**

**_xxxxx_**

**_Previously, in Quantum AU..._**

When I woke, I woke with style. Flailing arms, screaming, crying, the whole nine yards. I couldn't stop. Panic coursed through me, along with the sound of that gun echoing in my head.

"What the hell, Kate? Calm down! It's okay - you're dreaming! Jesus Christ you gave me a heart attack!"

_Sam?! _ I opened my eyes, and there he was, worry and amusement all over his face. "Sam!" I yelled, launching myself in his arms, and sobbing like a baby.

"Whoa! Dude - you're not little anymore!" He chuckled, and held me close, resting his chin on my head and rocking back and forth.

Truth be told, it took me a while to settle down. I mean, just a second ago Sam was dead, and I made that happen. Dean was a child rapist and probably just killed my other me because my love interest told him to.

I figured I deserved a five minute meltdown.

Sam kissed the top of my head and pulled away to look into my eyes. "All okay, now? Can I go to class without worrying about you ending up in a hospital or something?" He gently wiped my eyes and smiled that fucking Sam smile.

"Fuck, Sam, I had the worst dream ever. You were dead, and...um..._class_?"

_**XXXXX**_

_**Now...**_

Sam laughed. "Yeah - I have class in…" He glanced at his watch. "...half an hour." Hazel eyes were trained back on me. "I'm obviously not dead now, so...all good?"

All good? I'm so far from "all good" that I almost laughed out loud. Sam's not dead, that much is obvious, so things were already a little better. I peeked past him.

We were in a normal looking apartment. He said he's going to class. That's good. Right? This doesn't look like cause for panic.

_Right?_

I bit my lip and carefully extracted myself from him. "Yeah..._yeah_, I'm, um...fine. You...you go to... class? Yeah, class. All's good. Wide awake now. No worries!" I gave him a big, fat, fake smile.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowed and assessing. "You wanna go with me?"

I swallowed. Stay close to a seemingly nice Sam, in a seemingly normal reality, while I figure out what the deal is?

"Can I?"

He ruffled my hair. "Sure thing."

Sam got up and began shoving a binder and books into a backpack. While he was occupied, I slowly stood and took a couple steps.

"Get your shoes on and stuff, okay? Maybe bring that book you have to read for your English class, since I don't think you've even started it yet."

He was using this authoritative tone, which was odd, because _holy fucking shit how old am I?_

I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror by the front door. I was, like, twelve? And okay, I know I was a teenager in that last fucked up reality, but I didn't actually see what I looked like. This…this was…

I don't even know what this was.

I just stared at my reflection, marveling at how young I looked...and not in the fashion-glam way. More like in the...how-the-fuck-can-I-get-a-weapon-if-I'm-twelve way. I cast a quick glance at Sam to make sure he was busy before pulling on my shirt collar to see if the scar marks from Castiel were on my chest.

Nothing.

Not even boobs.

_Awesome_.

I somehow managed to find shoes and a jacket without looking too stupid. I figured he wasn't wearing size seven pink tennis shoes. By the time I got them on, he was moving towards the door, keys in one hand, and a smile on his face.

How the fuck could that other me have hurt him?

Then I thought, _whoa_, what if that Sam was a dick?

Yeah..._no_. Can't go there.

"Ready, kiddo? Here's your book."

_A Wrinkle In Time. _ I loved this book when I was in school. A young girl on an adventure to help save her father. Sounds perfect. I took the book and smiled at him. "Yup - all ready!" And that's when I noticed how high pitched my voice sounded. Christ, I sound like...um...like a pre-teen.

_Sigh_.

"You okay?" He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and giving the back of my head a little squeeze.

I took hold of his hand and squeezed it back. "Yeah...I'm fine. Let's go - don't want you to be late."

Nodding, Sam ruffled my hair again and held the door open, following me into the hallway of...a not-so-nice building. I mean, it was okay. But it was clear that rent could not have been that much given its condition. Sam coughed into his sleeve, walked across the hall to the stairs and started down, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was behind him.

Always the big brother.

We made our way down one flight and then out the front door. The building exited onto a street lined with fraternity houses and college-esque apartment buildings. This area looked vaguely familiar, and I remembered driving through it when my Sam was at Stanford.

Oh. So we're at Stanford.

Hooray for catching up.

We walked in silence for a while. I was completely lost in thought, running through memories of Stanford with my Sam, remembering the night we got so trashed we barely made it back to his dorm. I was comparing how my Sam was like this Sam, even though I've known him all of ten minutes. I was trying to forget the last reality, but the sound of that gunshot and the look on Dean's face were burned into my brain.

I shivered at the memory, focusing on my shoes and keeping pace with Sam's long strides.

I felt a nudge on my shoulder, sending me off a couple steps. I looked over and found Sam watching me again, eyebrows raised. "That must've been some dream, huh?"

I shrugged and kicked an innocent pebble that just happened to be in my way. "It was a dream, Sam. I'll get over it."

He snaked an arm across my shoulders and pulled me to him, making walking a little difficult, but _goddammit_, I felt a million times better, like I always did, when he held me. "Wanna talk about it?"

I laughed out loud. There were too many unknowns right now - I had no idea if explaining things to Sam would help or hurt. "No...it was...dumb. I'm okay. Really." I bent my head back enough to look up into his eyes. Christ, he's so damn tall. "I promise. Okay?"

His eyes flitted all over my face, trying to determine if I was lying. He kissed the top of my head. "If you say so." Then he shoved me a little.

Fucker.

I giggled (_Christ_, _I don't giggle…_), and we continued on.

When we reached the lecture hall, I realized something else.

"Sam - I gotta go to the bathroom. I'll be quick!" When you travel through what I'm calling space and time, going to the bathroom is one of those things that gets forgotten.

He checked his watch and pointed at the restroom across the hall. "Go on - I'll wait here."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll meet you inside. Don't be late because I have to pee."

He pulled his backpack off and began rooting around inside. "Not leaving you. I won't be late if you quit yapping and start peeing."

_Stubborn_ fucker.

Sighing, I went inside and took care of business. I just finished drying my hands, when I heard a deep voice in the hall.

"Picking up chicks outside the crapper, Winchester? That's rich. Even for you."

Sam laughed. "I'm waiting for Kate, Brady."

I wracked my brain for a Brady. Did I meet him during my visits to Stanford? I honestly couldn't remember.

"Why is she here? Can't you dump her at daycare or something?"

_Oooh_...if I had met him, I hope I punched him.

Sam sighed. "Brady...knock it off. You know she's my responsibility."

Okay, late be damned - I'm waiting to hear the rest of this. I stood very still beside the air dryer, listening to every single word.

"I don't get you, Sam. You've got a free ride in pre-law with one of the most competitive scholarships out there. You cannot blow this because you're playing daddy."

"Brady…" Sam started in a warning tone.

"No, not this time. You're working, taking a full load of classes, raising her...when do you sleep? You look like you're gonna fall over."

"That's enough, man. She needed a stable home, and while this isn't the greatest situation, I'm doing the best I can. Drop it, because we're not talking about it again."

There was a sigh and shuffling footsteps moved away.

My heart was in my throat. Sam's raising me? Is Dad even in the picture? Where was Dean? I berated myself for not paying more attention to his appearance. Granted, I was just killed by Dean in another universe...I was a tiny bit distracted.

Still.

Without Dean to take care of Sam, it fell solely to me to make sure he was okay.

No matter what reality I was in.

I waited a few beats to make sure Brady wasn't still around, then I crept into the hallway. I could barely meet Sam's eye. I felt guilty for weighing him down, and I hoped I would stick around long enough to help him somehow.

Even though it wasn't really me.

Ugh.

He was engrossed in a textbook when I came out, so I gently prodded him with my foot. He jumped, telling me that either his hunting skills were getting rusty, or he wasn't at a hundred percent. When he looked up, he smiled and closed his book. With a pen sticking out of his mouth, he asked, "All set?"

I smiled briefly and nodded.

He stood, shouldered his backpack and led me into the auditorium.

I remembered this room - I think it holds something like four hundred students, which is ridiculously large. Sam chose a spot near the back, making sure I had my book out and open before setting himself up for class. The auditorium was only filled about halfway, telling me that this was probably a class he could have missed if he really wanted to.

The professor was setting up on the stage, arranging papers and pens on a large podium, decked out with a laptop and document camera. I shifted in my chair a little, so I could easily watch Sam while pretending to read.

He definitely looked tired. _No_, exhausted. He was, what, nineteen? Twenty? But the worry lines were already evident, making him appear older. I propped my head on my hand and turned the page, watching Sam's hair fall into his eyes. He shook his head in a lame attempt to push it aside, since his hands were busy rifling through a folder.

I reached out and brushed it off his face. I tried to tuck it behind his ears, but it just wasn't quite long enough. He faced me, smiling while spitting out his pen. "You okay?"

Cupping his cheek, I nodded and smiled back. "Do we...have anything going on tonight?"

Sam cinched his mouth to the side and thought. "Nope. Why?"

I shrugged and went back to my book. "Just askin'."

Sam narrowed his eyes at me. "Kate…"

I put my finger to my lips. "_Shhh_ - class started."

He snorted just as the professor turned on the projector and began the lecture. Sam focused on him, but not before tapping the book and nudging me with his shoulder.

Sam's attention was on every word coming out of this guy's boring mouth. I slumped in my chair, and figured, well, if I'm stuck here, I might as well read a good book.

I'd gotten two pages in, when Sam slumped in _his_ seat, propping his legs on the vacant chair in front of us.

I snickered to myself - I knew what was coming.

Sure enough, by the time I got through another couple pages, his head drooped, followed by a beautiful full body twitch, which included dropping his pen and banging his head on the back of his chair. I bit my lip to keep from laughing, as he ruefully rubbed his head.

Wordlessly, I picked up his pen and handed it over, a small smile on my lips. He took it, gave me a sheepish grin, and rubbed his eyes, probably telling himself that he can totally make it through this class.

Ten minutes later, he totally didn't.

The rest of class passed peacefully...Sam's head on my small shoulder, arms folded across his chest, while I dutifully took notes for him. I thought about this Sam, and what was going on.

Dad and Dean weren't around, that much I knew. But I had no idea if there were visits and phone calls, or if the two of us were totally on our own. I also wasn't sure of the circumstances leading to a college freshman raising a middle schooler. I just couldn't imagine Dean allowing that to happen.

But then I remembered the last reality's Dean.

So I guess anything really _is_ possible.

Not that I had other options, but I decided to play the part of twelve-year-old Kate Winchester, and do my best to help an obviously overwhelmed Sam Winchester. And maybe I was feeling so fucking lost, that I'd take forty-five minutes of semi-snuggling during a political science lecture to help get a grip on my big girl pants.

When the professor started packing it up, I twisted enough to kiss the top of Sam's head. "Hey sleepy, time to get up."

He woke with a yawn, slow and lazy, stretching as he sat up. I don't think he remembered where he was.

Once again, my superior knowledge of all things Sam Winchester proved true, as I watched realization slowly dawn on him.

He looked around a little wildly. "Oh _shit_, Kate! Why'd you let me sleep?! I needed these notes for a test this week. I - "

I waved him off. "All covered, big brother. I took notes for you."

" - you what?"

I spoke slowly and carefully. "I. Took. Notes. I. Can. Write. You. Know." _Whoo_ - even trapped in another universe, I still got it.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kate, you can't - "

I sighed. "Annotation style, two-columns, there's even space for you to insert your interpretive thinking. I said I had it covered, Sam. Jesus."

He stared at me.

I sighed. "I looked through your notebook and saw how you took notes on the other days and just copied the format." I didn't sit through this class the first time around for nothing.

"Oh…" He took the notebook and skimmed over what I wrote. "Wow...these are...wow! This is - this is great, Kate." He closed the notebook and gave me that patented mushy _Wow, You Didn't Have To Do That_ look. "But…"

"But nothing, Sam. You said we have nothing going on tonight, right?"

He shook his head no, running his hand through his hair.

"Perfect. Let's go home, then. You need another nap. C'mon."

"Kate…"

"Shut up, Sam. I'm taking care of you right now, so just move it."

I stood up and moved my hands in a _Hurry The Fuck Up_ gesture. He laughed a little and shoved everything into his bag. Before he stood up, he looked up and gave me this sad smile.

"What is it?" I asked, brushing the hair off his face once again.

He shook his head a little as he stood, shouldering his backpack. "Nothing."

"No, what?"

"You just...you sounded like Dean. That's all." Then he sighed, and walked towards the exit.

_Oh, fuck_. I wanted to ask. I wanted to ask _sooooo_ badly, but if I did, he'd know something was wrong.

So I kept my mouth shut, and quietly followed him outside.

**xxxxx**

When we got home, I ordered him to relax on the couch. He watched me with amusement, which was irritating, because I knew he found me taking care of him hilarious.

There was nothing hilarious in this.

We spent the night eating whatever I cooked (heated up, whatever) and watching TV together on the couch. It was perfect.

Or...as perfect as this fucked up situation could be.

After the second movie, I was starting to nod off. I had my head in Sam's lap, and just felt..._comfortable_. I may have the essence of a twenty-three year old, but I was in a twelve-year-old's body.

He stroked my hair and murmured, "Hey...time for bed, Katydid."

I slowly let out a breath, blinking away tears. Outside of Dean calling him Sammy, we had no nicknames, and it was never a big deal. But the affection I felt through that one name...it blew me away. I always knew that Dean used Sammy as a way to express his love. I just never felt it before.

And then the anxiety set in.

What if I wake up somewhere else? What will happen to this Sam?

As much as I wanted to go home, I wasn't ready to leave.

I racked my brain for a convincing reason to stay awake, for _any_ way to stay with him. The hair stroking continued, followed by his thumb rubbing back and forth on my arm. He knew what I was doing. Just not the why of it.

"C'mon...it'll be okay. I'll check on you, I promise." He gently nudged me into a sitting position. I still hadn't said anything. He probably thought I was sulking, when in truth, I was afraid I'd cry if I said a single word.

So I chose nodding, feigning being half-asleep, while he led me to my bedroom. He actually tucked me in, and sat next to me while I let my eyelids droop. After smoothing my hair, he smiled at me. "Thanks for tonight. I, um, I needed it, and...you were there for me." He paused to search my face with his eyes. "You're growing up really fast, you know that?"

I huffed sleepily. "So're you."

He laughed at that, kissed the top of my head, and pressed his forehead to mine.

_Oh my God…_

"Love you. Get some sleep." He rose and turned off the light.

"Sam?" I called, sitting up.

"Yeah?"

I almost told him. I almost told him everything right then and there. "Love you, too."

But I didn't.

He patted the doorframe, gave me one last smile, and closed the door.

The breath I let out this time was a little more forceful, and I plopped back against the pillow.

Now what?

What if I shift in my sleep? How will I know if I'm in the same reality? Everything could appear the same, except for one small detail. Then I'd be double fucked.

I growled in frustration, threw the covers off, and turned on a small bedside lamp. I needed some way to distinguish where I was, so I could tell if I was here, or somewhere else that looked a lot like here.

Silently, I crept out of bed and began searching the room for something, anything, I could use. After a couple minutes of hunting (ha), I spied a pad of sticky-notes on the dresser.

A plan came together, making me smile with its sheer brilliance. I could write myself a note and leave it by the bed. If it's there in the morning, I'm still here. I was so proud of the idea that I almost called Sam to tell him how amazing I was.

No, wait - a note was actually a bad idea - what would I say?

_You're still in this alternate reality. Maybe today you can figure out how to return to your own body and kill Uriel._

And then have Sam find it? Yeah, not good.

I settled for a smiley face.

Using an almost dried out marker, I made a crude face, and left it at the base of the lamp. I settled back in bed, and turned off the light, staring at the note in the darkness.

It'll be there.

Right?

My eyes flickered to the doorway, where I last saw Sam, then back to the note.

I sighed, and went to sleep.

**xxxxx**

I woke slowly, stretching in bed and yawning. It took about another minute or so for reality to come crashing down, and I dreaded opening my eyes.

This may sound weird, but I felt myself up, and while disappointed that I wasn't in my real body, I was glad I was still in the pre-teen body.

But which pre-teen body was I in?

I turned my head, opened one eye, and peeked at the lamp.

A ridiculous sticky note smiled back at me.

_Yes!_

I jumped out of bed and went in search of Sam. I found him in the kitchen, already dressed and eating cereal. He looked up and smiled as I skipped (Yes, okay? I skipped.) over to him, planting a big ol' kiss on his cheek.

"Good morning!" I sang.

Startled, Sam laughed and gave me a hug. "Good morning to you, too. No nightmares?"

I shook my head and held up the sticky note. "Nope! All good."

Puzzled, Sam nodded at the paper. "Um...what does that mean?"

I wadded up the note and tossed it into the garbage. "Right now, Sam, it means nothing." I grabbed another bowl and started to pour cereal into it. "So...what's up for today?"

Sam swallowed and picked up a mug of coffee. "Well, I have work soon, and then a study group this afternoon. _You_ are reading an enormous chunk of that book, today, before school starts up tomorrow."

I flapped a hand at him as I perused the back of the cereal box. "I got it covered. No worries." There were recipes on the box, and I wondered if something would be doable for dinner.

He sipped his coffee and kicked me under the table. "Hey - I'm serious. You need to get that book finished."

"Chill out, Charles Wallace, I got it." I smirked at him and went back to the cereal box.

I caught him rolling his eyes. "I'll quiz you when I get home."

I gave him a _Yeah, yeah_ look. I had another chunk of time in which to help him out. I wasn't worried about reading a book I already read. I was worried about him. The cereal box had this list of classic diner dishes, and I was mentally ticking off which items Dean's shoved into his mouth. I came to one that I remembered us eating as kids.

"Hey Sam - how about we do something cool for dinner and have monte cristos? I can make them, I bet, and - "

I was interrupted by Sam almost dropping his coffee as he sneezed forcefully against his shoulder. "Whoa! Bless you!"

He ripped off another, and then…

_Oh, shit…_

His eyes...they flickered..._yellow_.

_What the hell? _ My breath caught in my throat and I blinked furiously, thinking I imagined the whole thing.

"Wow...I - wow…" He was breathless and watery-eyed, one hand under his nose as he blinked back at me, confusion on his face.

I quietly handed over a napkin, trying to stare and not stare at the same time. I ran over what just fucking happened, and I realized…

I said Christo.

_Technically_, I said "cristo", but demons don't go by context clues. I swallowed hard, and in a tiny voice, I said, "Didn't...didn't know you were allergic to monte cristo sandwiches…"

He sneezed again, more powerfully than the first two, into the napkin, covering most of his face. But not his eyes.

Not the yellow eyes that appeared for a split second before returning to my brother's bleary hazel ones.

"I'm not! I don't know where those came from!" He sniffed, waiting to see if he'd sneeze again. When he figured he was safe, he set the napkin in his bowl and laughed. "That was so weird!" He stood and put his bowl in the sink. "I'm gonna finish getting ready." And with that, he left the kitchen and headed towards his bedroom.

I didn't move. Through that whole thing, I didn't fucking move. I was sure my heart would burst out of my chest and land in my cereal bowl. My breaths came in short gasps, and I had to clasp my hands in my lap to hide the shaking.

What the _fucking hell_ was that? I couldn't decide between crying in a corner and running out the door.

I was having breakfast with _Azazel_.

_How did that happen?_

Okay. First things first. Demons sense things, so if I didn't calm the fuck down, right the fuck now, I was gonna die. So I took several shuddering breaths, used Dad's breathing exercises, and calmed down.

About one sliver of one percent.

But it was calmer than before.

Sam came back in, backpack over his shoulder and keys dangling from his finger. I jumped at the metallic jingle, slamming my hands against the underside of the table, and almost knocking my cereal bowl onto the floor.

Sam laughed at me, a normal Sam laugh at something stupid his sister did. "Wow! You sneaking my coffee when I'm not looking?"

I laughed back, this nervous, high-pitched giggle thing that sounded horrific. "Yeah! Totally, right?"

Was that even English?

Sam pointed at me. "Read, today. I mean it. Okay?"

I nodded furiously. "Absolutely! Consider it read!"

He smiled, that fucking Sam smile that I fucking love and is now ruined. "Good girl. See you tonight!"

And then...he left.

And then...I sagged in my chair, clutched my chest, and thanked the stars that he didn't kill me.

After the thanking was done, I allowed myself a minute to get a grip on this change in circumstances.

It hit me hard: _I snuggled with Azazel._

I need a plan. I need a weapon.

_I need Dad._

Cereal and sandwiches now forgotten, I ran to the door and peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty, so I locked and chained the door and spent the next thirty minutes combing the entire apartment for any information on Dad and Dean...phone numbers, letters, cards, newspaper clippings, anything.

_Nothing_.

Upon closer inspection, however, I did find intact salt lines on all the windows.

Except one - Sam's. There was a tiny break in the line, one that could easily be overlooked by someone who wasn't looking carefully.

But I was looking carefully.

It didn't tell me much, except that demons can get in and out of the apartment. I still had no details.

After a serious debate on whether to fix the line, I decided to leave it alone for now. I didn't know the circumstances behind the break, so not messing with it seemed the best plan. I then stood in the middle of the living room, hands threaded in my hair, eyes wildly darting around the room.

Now what?

Normal demons were problems.

_This_ demon?

Problems times infinity.

I was so screwed.

Holy water was what I needed next, seeing as how Sam didn't have any hunting weapons in the apartment. That I could find. I went into the kitchen, filled a pitcher with tap water, and began chanting a Hail Mary over it, thinking this was better than nothing, when the doorbell rang.

I ground my teeth together and checked the peephole again. There was a boy in the hallway, leaning on the wall next to the door. He looked about my age. Awesome. Because what I need, right now, is a fucking playdate.

I opened the door just a little, trusting in the security chain to keep the opening to a minimum.

"Yeah?" I asked, in a not-very-friendly tone.

The boy jumped when I called out, but quickly recovered. "Hey…"

I winced when he said that, because that's what Dean always says. Struggling against the ache in my chest, I ground out, "What do you want?"

The boy took a step back, eyes narrowed. "Wow. You're a bitch, today."

I sighed. More awesome. He knew me, and I had no idea who the hell he was. "I'm sorry - I'm...kind of in the middle of something."

He nodded and took a step closer. "Yeah? Anything I can help with?"

Right. We'll watch iCarly and make holy water together.

Closing the door, I mumbled, "No. Gotta go."

Right after the door clicked shut, I heard, "How about a weapon to free your brother?"

Well, that sounded better than iCarly.

I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to the door. How could I know who to trust?

What choice did I have? _Azazel was in Sam!_

Taking a deep breath, I slowly opened the door. The boy now had his arms folded across his chest, and he looked a little smug.

"Christo…" I murmured.

Nothing.

"I'm not a demon, Kate."

_Thank God._ I began to unlock the door.

"I'm an angel."

And I locked it again.

"And you're not this universe's Kate Winchester."

_Goddammit_.

I unlocked the door a second time and flung it open. "What the hell's going on?" I demanded, in a terse whisper. After a quick scan of the hallway, I grabbed him by the arm and flung him inside, locking the door behind him.

He glanced at me, amused. "Locks don't - "

"Shut the fuck up. It makes me feel better, and right now, I need anything to feel better." Shaking, I began pacing the apartment, massaging my temples as a headache bloomed.

He just stood there, letting me have my moment, until I appeared ready for conversation.

"Who are you?" I asked, ceasing the pacing in favor of perching on the couch's arm.

"I'm Michael."

I blinked at him. There were little dots of light swirling around his head. No, all of him. "Michael? As in...archangel Michael?" I caught myself sliding off the arm and onto the cushions.

His brow furrowed and he took a step towards me. "Are you...alright?"

Confused, I stared at him, watching the little lights dance in my vision.

The room spun a little, just as I heard a key in the lock. I sluggishly turned towards the door, fighting the dizziness, as the door opened, only to stop when the chain pulled taut. Sam called out, "Katy? Sweetheart? Come open the door for me, baby. Okay?" It was Sam's voice. But it wasn't Sam's voice.

Michael grabbed my arm.

The door burst open, and Sam stood in the doorway, yellow eyes blazing.

Then everything went black.

**xxxxx**

Next thing I knew, I was lying on something soft, under a warm blanket. After a few seconds of _OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod_, and several deep gulps of air, I ventured to open my eyes.

I was lying in bed, in a nice sized bedroom. I could hear a shower running nearby, and there was no sign of danger at all.

Yeah, that's what I thought last time, too.

I tried to roll onto my stomach for a stretch, because my back was fucking killing me, but a beachball was in my way. Grimacing, I reached down to move it, but ended up flailing about and throwing the covers off me.

There was no beachball.

There was my belly - completely, and utterly pregnant.

_Whoa…_

I gingerly put my hands on my swollen midsection. My mouth opened into this little _O_ shape, and I just...I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And that's when I spotted the wedding ring.

Huh..._ooooo-kay_.

I awkwardly shuffled to the edge of the bed, thinking: I should get up to investigate.

That quickly turned into: I should get up and investigate the location of that bathroom, because this lady needs to pee, _pronto_.

I managed to sit up, with what I admit it wasn't a pretty execution of movements. I sat there, panting (because sitting up was apparently exhausting), when I spotted my wedding picture on top of a dresser.

...

Let me say this.

Being pregnant was quite the turn of events.

Finding out I was married to _Dad_, was a whole other thing.

**XXXXX TBC XXXXX**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

Next thing I knew, I was lying on something soft, under a warm blanket. After a few seconds of _OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod_, and several deep gulps of air, I ventured to open my eyes.

I was lying in bed, in a nice sized bedroom. I could hear a shower running nearby, and there was no sign of danger at all.

Yeah, that's what I thought last time, too.

I tried to roll onto my stomach for a stretch, because my back was fucking killing me, but a beachball was in my way. Grimacing, I reached down to move it, but ended up flailing about and throwing the covers off me.

There was no beachball.

There was my belly - completely, and utterly pregnant.

_Whoa…_

I gingerly put my hands on my swollen midsection. My mouth opened into this little _O_ shape, and I just...I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

And that's when I spotted the wedding ring.

Huh..._ooooo-kay_.

I awkwardly shuffled to the edge of the bed, thinking: I should get up to investigate.

That quickly turned into: I should get up and investigate the location of that bathroom, because this lady needs to pee, _pronto_.

I managed to sit up, with what I admit it wasn't a pretty execution of movements. I sat there, panting (because sitting up was apparently exhausting), when I spotted my wedding picture on top of a dresser.

...

Let me say this.

Being pregnant was quite the turn of events.

Finding out I was married to _Dad_, was a whole other thing.

**XXXXX TBC XXXXX**

_**Now...**_

So...was this worse than Dean wanting me dead and Sam being possessed by the family enemy?

It ranked up there.

My jaw dropped, and I stared at the picture, my need to use the bathroom forgotten. With a shaky hand, I reached and picked up the photo, framed in one of those decorative things with the word Love scripted on it and, oh, _Ha_, a devil's trap combined with a Cupid's bow.

Nice. Very nice.

The picture itself was in black and white. It was me and Dad (_Oh, gads_…) standing under a tree, arms wrapped around each other. I was in a pretty white dress - not the traditional wedding gown, but ankle length. Dad was in a nice suit, and he looked incredibly happy.

We both did. Like a couple in love.

Upon closer inspection, I looked a little older...maybe around thirty? And there was a vicious scar down the length of my left arm. I checked, and sure enough, there it was, jagged and angry, from my shoulder down past my elbow.

I bet that's a good story.

I was so entrenched in the photo, that I didn't hear the shower stop running. That explains why I jumped when I heard a low chuckle behind me. "Still can't believe it's been a year, huh?"

Dad…

Or...John…

Or...I need a drink.

Truth be told, I was a little afraid to turn around. Obviously it was Dad, but...he isn't Dad here. But he _has _to be _my _dad, otherwise, how'd I _get _here? I mean, his DNA made me, right? So…

The bed dipped and I felt a hand on my back. "Hey...you okay?"

I turned and faced him, concerned brown eyes mere inches from my own. His hair was wet, and a little longer than I was used to. The worry lines were there, and I assumed that meant hunting. What else could have caused that massive scar on my arm? He was only wearing a towel around his waist, leaving the rest of him...well...not covered.

I had to play this part until I knew what I was facing. That last shift taught me a lesson - nothing is what it seems without proof.

I cleared my throat and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just...you know." I pointed to my belly. "Pregnant!"

He laughed, taking the picture and placing it back on the dresser. "I'm aware." He cupped my cheek in one hand, and set the other on my stomach.

Well, yes, I say stomach, even though technically it isn't my _stomach_, because five minutes ago, _that was my normal stomach area_. Now it was freaking huge. "Oh shit!" I yelled, as I felt something shift inside me, making Dad's hand wobble and me frantically grab his arm.

His eyes widened, and more laughter rang out. "Whoa! That was a good one, huh? I'm telling you, Kat, he's gonna be a soccer player!" He kissed my cheek and got up, walking towards a closet. "You ready for today?"

Today. Am I ready for today. Of course I'm not. "You bet! It...should be...good…I'm gonna use the bathroom." I struggled to my feet and began to _ohmygod_ wobble towards the door, figuring I could find this bathroom.

Dad paused his hanger pushing. "Good? Our first baby shower should be more than good."

I paused. Baby shower day. _Riiiiiight_...of course. "I know...I'm just...a little preoccupied - that's all." I pointed to my belly and hurried to the bathroom.

Once inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, my hands on my face. There has got to be a good explanation for this. Right? He must _not_ know I'm his daughter. Right?

I mean, _right?_

I scrubbed my hands over my face, then went to the bathroom. I washed my hands and face, pausing to stare at myself in the mirror as water dripped down my cheeks and off my chin.

I definitely looked older, with wrinkles around the edges of my eyes and a hardened edge to my facial features. It was hard to explain, but I just _knew _that this me had seen some fucked up shit.

Sighing, I dried my face with a towel and leaned against the sink. I needed to test things - find out if I'm really in a safe environment. I heard a rustling noise, and stood up just as Castiel blinked into sight.

"Cas!" I breathed, throwing my arms around his neck and squeezing tight.

He awkwardly patted me on the back. "Um, yes, hello Kate. I'm sorry that I…" He pushed me away a little and stared at my pregnant middle. "You're...quite large…"

I rolled my eyes and swatted him on the arm. "This Kate is pregnant, Cas, and while I'm no expert, this baby's due soon! And worse than that - I'm married to Dad!"

Perplexed, Cas blinked at me.

"Let that sink in, will you? Dad is my husband! This is his baby!" I pointed to my belly. "I don't think he knows that I'm his daughter!" I glanced over his shoulder at the door, expecting it to burst open any second, even though I was whispering. "And by the way!" I slapped him. "That's for ordering Dean to kill me!" I huffily flopped back against the sink, panting from the effort of the whisper-yelling.

Cas rubbed his cheek and looked thoroughly confused. "I...what? Ordered Dean to kill you? In a different universe?"

I glared at him. _Where else?_

His eyes widened and he nodded. Once it sunk in, he gave me a Cas version of Sam's Eyes. "I see. I'm...sorry?"

I waved him off. "Nevermind. I shouldn't have hit you for that, I know. It's been...it's been awful." I looked up at him and whined a little. "How much longer do I have to do this?"

He sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. "I wish I knew, Kate. But I don't. I'm being watched, and it's difficult to get to you."

I sighed, shaking my head. "How are you finding me? If I'm shifting to an unlimited number of universes and times, how do you know where I am?"

Cas tilted his head to the side, considering me. "I told you once, that I'd always find you." He reached out and placed his fingers on my chest, in the same spots as my scar, eliciting a cool tingle. "We are…connected, now. I will know where you are. I just...can't get to you in every reality. I'm sorry."

I clasped his hand tight, forcing him to look me in the eyes. In a soft voice, I said, "I know. And, I appreciate everything you're doing to help. I just...I'm being faced with some real messed up situations, and I always feel like...like I'm not catching on fast enough. I can't trust _anything_ around me without proof of what I'm dealing with."

Cas gave me his serious look, which really is just him staring at me with his head tilted to the side. "What's happened?"

Shaking my head again, I let go of his hand. "It doesn't matter. I'm not there anymore, so it's over. But now I'm _here_, and I don't have the full picture of what's going on _here,_ and this situation is just..."

Cas frowned, and placed two fingers against my temple. I heard a nifty swooshing sound echo in my head. "This Kate's memories are not accessible to me. But I do know that she and John are not aware of their connection. As far as they know, they are two people who met on a hunt, and fell in love."

Well..._okay_.

He sighed, his eyes sad. "I think part of why I can't access her mind, is because your consciousness is dominant and present right now. Instead of accessing hers...I...accessed yours. I know of what you've...experienced. I...I don't know what to say, except - "

I held up a hand. "Don't tell me you're sorry. Just..._please_...find a way to get me home, okay?" I ran my fingers through my hair. "Is the real me still asleep?"

He nodded.

I scrunched up my shoulders and threw my hands up in frustration. "How is that possible? I was with Sam in that last reality overnight."

Now _Cas_ held up a hand, silencing me. "I know it doesn't seem logical. But this is the result of a spell, Kate. There's a bit of dark magic at work, here, and I don't know the exact science on how it works. What I _can_ tell you, is that you're safe _here_. Nothing is hunting you, and everyone is exactly who they appear to be."

I rubbed my eyes. "Well, that's something at least." I dropped my hands and asked, "So wait - can I tell them? Can I tell them what's going on? Maybe they can help!"

Cas thought this over, but ended up shaking his head. "I advise against telling people. They aren't prepared for this."

"Like _I_ was prepared for this?"

"Kate, this spell is incredibly powerful. It took the efforts of several angels to cast, with Uriel at the head. It is highly doubtful that the humans in the varied realities you visit will be able to help." I opened my mouth, but he waved me to silence. "Besides, you don't know how long your stay in each realm will be. The effort it will take to convince people of your story may be as far as you get. Then you leave, and what is left for that Kate to deal with?" He picked up my hand and squeezed it. "Your father is happy, here, Kate. You make him happy. They haven't done anything wrong by being together. Are you willing to risk that? Because finding out the truth will do just that."

I squinted at him. "So an Angel Of The Lord is telling me to let a father impregnate his daughter and live together happily ever after?"

He cringed at that. "I prefer telling you that John Winchester deserves to be at peace."

_Goddammit._

"Okay, but you or any other angel can tell I'm not who I'm supposed to be. I don't know why Azazel didn't react to me...maybe he wasn't in control of Sam at the time? I dunno…" I wasn't quite ready to accept that Azazel was in Sam the whole time. "But any angel can 'out' me, and then I'm guessing I'll be in a worse situation."

Cas let go of my hand, and once again, reached out and touched the spot where my scar should be. As before, I felt a cool rush flow from his fingers, only this time, it filled every inch of my _pregnant_ body. He pulled away and cinched his mouth to the side. "That should fix that."

I waited, but he offered no explanation. I blew out a breath, then demanded, "What should fix what, Cas?"

He blinked and shook himself. "I encoded your consciousness with something similar to a verification code, so the angels you encounter understand the situation. If they still _out_ you, there is a reason."

I snorted. There are lots of reasons out there. I was just confident I wouldn't like most of them. I wasn't even going to ask for a clarification of what "encoded my consciousness" means. (How do you even _do_ that?) I didn't want to know. As long as it was done, that was good enough.

I am _too_ trusting.

There was a knock on the door. "Kat? You okay in there?"

Cas arched an eyebrow. I grabbed his coat to keep him from blinking away. "Yeah! Almost done!" I leaned close and whispered in his ear, "One last thing...this baby...is it...healthy?" The last thing I wanted was for an unforeseen..._complication_...because of this relationship. If I was going along with it, I needed to know.

Cas gave me a smile. "_She_...is perfectly fine, and very excited to meet you." Then he blinked out of sight. I stuck my tongue out at the empty bathroom, then opened the door. A worried Dad stood in the hallway, now dressed in some nice jeans, a button down shirt, and a blazer. His face was clean shaven, his bangs hung almost to his eyes, and the ends curled out from his neck.

Wow, Dad's quite the looker.

While I didn't like this situation, at least it wasn't dangerous, and there wasn't any trickery, here. It was just...uncomfortable. Really, fucking uncomfortable.

But I looked into Dad's..._John's_...eyes, taking in the worry, the love, the confusion. Cas was right. I _couldn't_ take this away from him. No one was being hurt. The baby was normal and healthy. John was, for the first time in my life, happy.

I squared my shoulders a little. I could do this. Even with a baby inside me. Even with _Dad's _baby inside me.

_Especially_ with Dad's baby inside me.

That statement almost made me throw up.

I flashed a simple smile, and gave him a big hug, getting as close as my huge self would allow. "How can I not be okay? I'm with you and our little girl."

Every once in a while, I nail it by saying the right words to the right person. Enthuiastically, John pulled me into a tight hug (at least to my upper half), and murmured into my hair. "I love you." He kissed me on the lips (I will get used to that I will get used to that I don't want to be here long enough to get used to that). He gazed into my eyes, a serious expression on his face. "But what makes you think it's a girl?"

I smirked at him. "You have to trust me on this one. I know I'm right."

He rolled his eyes. "Go get dressed. Ellen and Jo will be here soon."

"Really?" I asked in an almost squeal of excitement. Only to clamp my stupid mouth shut at his look of surprise. "I mean, of course they will be here soon." I thumbed down the hallway. "Gonna get dressed!"

John shook his head and chuckled. "Jesus, you're weird today."

I flapped a hand at him over my shoulder as I made my way awkwardly down the hall. "You have no fucking idea, Winchester. Now, is there a dress code I can't remember or what?"

**xxxxx**

By the time I got downstairs, Ellen and Jo were in the living room, with Dean staring intently at his phone from the couch.

"Wow, look at you!" Jo gushed, running over to give me a big hug, which I returned probably a little more intensely than she expected, but I was just so glad to see her. And, you know, she wasn't possessed or anything.

"I know! This is crazy!" I said, both hands on my belly.

Ellen laughed. "You look great, sweetheart. Bobby's gonna flip out when he sees you. I swear you doubled since we last saw you!"

Dean snorted, shoving his phone in his pocket, and standing with a stretch. "Tripled, more like. How're you feeling, _Mom_?" He snickered, then leaned down to kiss my cheek.

I would've killed a vampire barehanded to get more of a hug from him, but I settled for merely smiling and giving him shit. "Be nice, or I'll ground your ass."

He snorted again. "Jo'll protect me." He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, kissing her neck messily and making her giggle wildly.

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Get a room, you two. When's Sam supposed to get here?"

Dean stopped rocking Jo back and forth to check his watch. "Plane lands in an hour."

I searched for a way to ask where he lived and what he was doing...what they were _all _doing...but I came up blank. For example, where was Adam?

I guessed some storylines would just have holes in them, and I had to accept that.

Didn't have to like it, though.

I looked past Dean, and saw some pictures lining a shelf above the fireplace. Cliche, yes, but I didn't care. Pictures told stories, so I waddled over and began studying them.

There was one of Dean and Jo, together on a beach. Jo and Ellen at the Roadhouse...sort of a candid shot. Sam outside a building I recognized from Palo Alto (He must be back in school!). Bobby and Dad, in front of a house, grinning like little kids. Another one of me and Dad. Then one of Dad, Dean, and Sam...posing on the Impala, which was..._oh_.

_She was totalled._

That hurt as badly as if one of them were dead.

I cleared my throat, needing something else to think about. I figured it was okay to ask, "Where's Bobby again?"

Ellen rolled her eyes again. "Needed to finish something at the garage. I dunno what, but he was insistent. Said he'd meet us at the restaurant."

I nodded absently, and reluctantly turned away from the photos. Ellen was watching me, and after flashing a preoccupied Dean a quick look, she walked over, arms folded across her chest.

She whispered, "You okay?"

I need to _not _make people ask me that. But I don't see how that's remotely possible. "Yeah, I'm just…" Then it hit me - the perfect way to get through this.

I gave her what I hoped was a sheepish smile. "I guess I'm just a little emotional."

Christ, I'm brilliant.

Ellen smiled sympathetically, and reached out to smooth my hair. "I remember that feeling. Hormones all runnin' wild, crying at nothin'..."

"Yes! I'm all over the place...forgetting things, daydreaming…" Okay, those weren't emotional, but I was hoping that if I threw them in there, I'd have covered my ass for whatever stupid thing I could do.

She laughed. "You only have a couple weeks left, sweetie. Then it'll only get worse." She patted my shoulder and walked to the couch, picking up her purse and fishing out a set of keys. "Okay, Jo, let's go make sure the restaurant is ready for us."

"Okay, Mom," Jo said through more giggles.

Dean let go of her after planting a deep kiss down her throat. "C'mon, Ellen. What's to get ready? There's only us."

Ellen shouldered her bag, and huffed. "Don't start with me, boy."

Dean grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You love me, and you know it." Ellen laughed and shoved him.

I smiled at the exchange, loving how similar they were to my Ellen and Dean.

John bounced down the steps, skipping the last two. Holy smokes, he's bouncing, now. "Everyone ready?"

There was a chorus of affirmative little noises, and John patted down his pockets. "Where are my keys?"

Dean huffed, and walked to an end table in the corner of the living room. He bent and picked up a large, jangling set of keys. Twirling them on a finger, he silently handed them over, a smile on his lips.

John snatched them, giving Dean a very stern finger pointing. "Say. Nothing."

Dean raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, sitting once more on the couch.

Ellen piped up. "Jo and I were just leaving. C'mon, honey."

Jo rushed over to give me one last, quick hug. "See you in a few hours!" She excitedly whispered into my ear.

I smiled back at her, watching her and Ellen walk out the door. Dean slapped his thighs. "So. We need to stop at Bobby's before we get Sam."

John raised his eyebrows. "For what?"

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. He just said to make sure we stopped by on the way to the airport."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He knew exactly why - he was just playing dumb.

John pointed at him. "You know exactly why. Stop playing dumb."

Dean placed a hand over his heart with a look of innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't shoot the messenger." He pushed himself to his feet and waved us to follow. "Hurry up, or we'll be late."

He went outside, and John turned to me, confusion mixed with suspicion on his face. "Don't look at me," I said defensively. "Even if I knew what was going on at some point, I certainly don't know now." I looked around. "So...do I have a purse or something?"

John's expression showed an increase of confusion. "On the kitchen table. Seriously - what's _with _you today?"

_Here we go. _ I put one hand on my hip, the other on my belly. "Maybe you didn't notice that I'm pregnant, hmm? Just humor me so we can get through today, alright?"

John huffed and shook his head. "You're something else." He went to the kitchen and retrieved what was apparently my purse. He handed it over. "You're lucky I love you."

I hefted the bag onto my shoulder. "Of course I am. Now let's go."

**xxxxx**

The drive to Bobby's took about twenty minutes. John's SUV bounced over the bumpy roads, making it difficult to tell if the baby was kicking or if we were just hitting rough patches. As we neared the house, I pressed against the glass, wondering how similar it would be to my home.

Turns out, it was exactly the same.

The yard was still overrun with junkers, but there was an order to them. The house stood neat and strong, blanketed, I was sure, in all sorts of charms and protections. John pulled in and parked on the side of the driveway, leaving enough room for another car to get past him.

We piled out (well _they_ piled out, _I_ slowly and gracelessly exited the car, and stood in the driveway, scanning the lot for signs of the old hunter.

"Where is he?" John asked, shading his eyes whenever he faced the sun.

Dean cinched his mouth to the side, pretending to be confused. "I dunno, Dad. He just said to be here."

John rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course he did." He sighed and continued looking around. He gave me a sidelong glance, which I returned with a shrug of my shoulders.

Like I had any clue what was going on.

I was swaying from side to side, almost rocking myself as I stood. One hand was on my back, the other on the baby, and I felt like I was on a boat. John moved to stand next to me, placing a steadying arm around my shoulders.

"Dean - go find him."

Dean flapped a hand at him dismissively, and I felt John's irritation level jump. Reaching up, I took his hand and squeezed it, trying to settle him down.

Beside me, he huffed, and kissed the top of my head. In my ear, he murmured, "Seriously, do you know what's going on?"

I shook my head no, and he sighed in response.

Then we heard it.

A loud rumble, throaty and sexy, coming from behind the house. John's arm dropped from my shoulders, as he stood up straight and took a couple steps toward the noise, as if a siren were beckoning him.

I _knew _that sound, as well as I knew my own voice. Dean's face split into a grin, and he stared at his shoes in a lame attempt to hide it.

John swiveled towards his son. "_Dean…_"

At his name, Dean looked up, and the grin got wider. He shrugged. "Couldn't leave her in a heap, Dad."

The rumble increased, and then we saw her. The Impala, fully restored, pulled into view, amid a cloud of dust. John couldn't help himself - instinctively drawn to her, he jogged closer, stopping just as Bobby pulled next to him.

The windows were down, and Bobby leaned across the seat. "Figured you needed your family car since you're startin' another one."

John was speechless. His jaw lay open as he slowly walked around her, fingers lovingly caressing the paint job.

I was stunned. The Impala in the picture was a twisted heap of metal. I have no idea how they did it, but if anyone could, it was Bobby and Dean. Tears were in my eyes, from both the sight of the car, and of John. Bobby climbed out, fiddling with his cap, embarrassed by the silence.

John finished his inspection of the exterior, and after an unspoken word was shared between them, Bobby popped the hood. The pregnant lady forgotten, animated conversation began over the engine and the gaskets and the something else that makes the car go.

Standing in the driveway was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, so I continued my rocking-swaying movement. My face must've given away how I felt, because next thing I knew, Dean was next to me, his hand on my elbow. In a low voice, he asked, "You okay?"

I nodded, and tucked some hair behind my ear. "Yeah, I think so. Maybe I should sit down."

Dean looked around, then helped me to the porch, where I sank down on the steps with an, "Ooof…"

He smirked, but I could see the concern in his eyes. "I'm fine, Dean. Go play with the boys."

Dean glanced over his shoulder, then shook his head. "Nah, Bobby waited a long time for this moment. Let him have the glory." He sat next to me, rubbing a hand along my back in broad strokes. It felt fantastic.

Until…

"_Whoa…,_" I breathed as a sharp pain shot up my groin and into my belly. It felt like the wind was knocked out of me, and I grabbed my middle and bent forward a bit.

Dean was immediately on his feet, crouched in front of me, hands on mine. "Breathe, Kat...remember to breathe…"

Honestly, I'd love to breathe, but my chest felt a little constricted at the moment. It took a few seconds, but the pain finally backed off, allowing my clenched muscles to relax a bit and air to flow once more into my lungs.

"Holy fucking shit that hurt," I groaned, gripping Dean's hands until I noticed him wincing with pain. "Fuck - sorry!" I apologized, letting them go and wiping the sweat on my dress.

He chuckled. "It's okay. That was somethin', huh? Uh - was it a contraction?"

Like I know. "I don't know...but it hurt like _Oh God, another one_…" I sucked in a breath as another wave of pain hit me, sharp and crisp, bringing tears to my eyes. "Wow…" I choked out.

"Dad!" Dean called over his shoulder.

"Yeah?" There was an absent quality to the response, like John was answering, but not paying attention to Dean's tone.

"Um...we probably need to cancel lunch."

That got his attention. It didn't take long for John to appear at my side, brushing my sweaty hair off my face and asking, in a fairly trembly voice, "Kat...what's wrong, babe?"

I couldn't answer, so I just shook my head and pressed the heel of one hand against my eye. I was breathing in short little pants, hoping that eventually, I'd be able to draw a decent breath. The whole idea that I could possibly be around for the delivery of this baby was really freaking me out, and most certainly wasn't helping the whole _Breathe_ campaign.

Dean and John were talking, and I think I heard Bobby's voice in there, but the words weren't clear. It was hard enough keeping the tears at bay. Concentrating on voices was pushing my limits.

During a lull in the pain wave, I leaned against John. "Wasn't...wasn't ready for it..._whew…_" I feebly laughed, trying to ease his worry.

"Can you stand up? Maybe get to the car?"

"Mmmm...yeah…" John and Dean both helped haul me to my feet, where I stood swaying a little, and not in the fun rocking motion from earlier. This was more like...I had no balance whatsoever, and if John didn't have a death grip on me, I'd have fallen over. The look on Bobby's face was priceless, though, and I had to laugh at him. Even if it was weak.

"Okay, babe...here we go…" We took a whole two steps before I felt it.

A nice warm, wet trickle down my legs.

Like I said, I'm no expert at being pregnant or childbirth in general, but I'm gonna bet that my water broke.

I stopped walking, and gripped John's arm a little tighter. "Dean, sweetheart…"

Dean raised an eyebrow at me.

"I'm gonna need some towels. Your dad will kill me if I get the seats wet."

"What? Why…? Oh. _Oh_...um..._fuck_." He took off running for the house.

John's eyes widened. "Oh...shit...okay…okay...we'll, yeah, okay." He helped me along a little faster, coaching me on how to breathe and counting seconds between what I'm now assuming are contractions.

I could hear Bobby talking over it all. "Get her to the hospital, John. I'll get Sam and call Ellen."

In between _hee hee hee_ sounds, John grunted, "Thanks, Bobby...for everything. I'll...I owe you so much beer it isn't funny."

Bobby scoffed, "Shaddup. Go be a Dad. We'll meet you there."

We got to the Impala just as Dean returned, carrying an armful of towels.

"How much do you expect her to leak, boy?" Bobby demanded.

"How the fuck do I know? I just grabbed 'em, I didn't count them!"

Towels were laid on the seats and the floor, two thick. I wanted to make a joke about absorbency or peeing in the car or anything. But instead, all I could think of was _I'm gonna have this baby_.

_Another _thought occurred to me. Was this Kate going to miss the birth of her child? How completely, and utterly shitty.

And now there's one more thing to be upset about.

_Hooray…_

I got situated in the back seat, resting against John, while Dean slid into the front seat. He started the car, then twisted in his seat to look at us. "Dad...I'm sorry...I - do you wanna drive, or…?"

John stared incredulously at him, his hands still stroking my hair and squeezing my hand. "Just go."

After a terse nod, Dean faced front, shifted her into gear, and peeled out of Bobby's yard.

**xxxxx**

The hospital wasn't that far away, but it felt like we drove for hours. That was possibly because John and I were counting breaths and seconds and pain waves, and lulls, and the cycle never seemed to end.

Soon after we arrived, I was in a wheelchair and on my way to a room, John still holding my hand and Dean following close behind. We got to the sixth floor, and began the whole process of checking in, filling out paperwork (legally!), and getting me changed into a lovely faded blue hospital gown.

At one point, Dean's phone rang with a simultaneously excited and worried Sam on the other end, assuring us that Bobby picked him up, and they were now on their way to the hospital.

Once the hoopla of our arrival died down, it was just the three of us in the hospital room. I was hooked up to some monitors, and preparing myself for some serious drugs.

John sat with me on the bed, and Dean sat in a chair, his leg bouncing nervously. "You know...this is a first. We've never been here for something good."

"Huh?" John asked, handing me a cup full of ice chips, which, by the way, felt heavenly in my mouth.

Dean spread his arms and gestured around the room. "Hospitals. We're never here for good reasons."

We all shared a laugh, cut short on my end by a grunt of pain. John hovered dutifully, which was both charming and irritating. My temperament deteriorated as the contractions got closer.

Was I _actually _going to have this baby? How many times would I ask myself that question?

Probably until it sunk in.

_Good Gravy…_

The pain was exhausting, and I ended up drifting in and out of consciousness. Through fluttering eyelids, I watched Dean text Sam periodically with updates. After one such check, he leaped to his feet, shoving the phone in his pocket. "He's here! I'll go get him." Before anyone could comment, he was out of the room.

As soon as he left, John leaned down, rubbing an ice chip along my lips, soothing the spot I kept biting. "How's my girl?" He murmured, kissing me gently on the cheek.

"_Heh_...been better." He nodded seriously, concern etched into every pore on his face. "Hey…" I weakly smacked him on the chest. _Fuck_, I was exhausted. "Why so glum? It's baby time...s'posed to be good…"

He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "I know. I'm just...this is a big deal, that's all." He sighed, slumping his shoulders. "I was so excited...and I still am! It's just…" He eyed the ceiling and blew out a breath. "What if I fail again?"

"What're you talking about?"

He looked straight at me. "What if I'm a crappy father all over again?"

_Oh._

I felt around the bed until I bumped against his hand. Picking it up, I pressed it to my lips, mindful of the heart monitor dangling from one finger. "Listen to me, okay? It's really simple, John. If you don't want to be a crappy father, then don't be a crappy father."

He huffed. "Like it's that easy."

I shrugged, feeling the monitor wires slide across my chest. "Actually, it is. If that bothers you, then go with this rule. Do what _I _say. I'm sure that one will work."

He laughed out loud at that, and pulled my hand to his chest, holding it tight. "Thank God I have you."

"Mmm...that's the truth. Now go get me some drugs. I am not doing this without 'em."

**xxxxx**

It took another twenty minutes for the anesthesiologist to arrive and hook me up. By then, the room was crowded with Sam, Dean and John, with the others probably pacing in the classic hospital waiting room.

Normally, I hate being the center of attention. This time? I was thankful they were all there, jumping to help if I so much as twitched. If I was doing this, I needed them.

The constant ache combined with the cycle of contraction pain sucked the energy out of me. I already felt drugged, even though the doctor had yet to insert the needle. It took another twenty for that to happen, and by the time he was done, the pain was bearable and I could breathe through the spikes.

Conversations, however, became almost impossible. I was falling asleep between sentences, vaguely aware of the boys laughing at me. I had witty retorts ready to go - I just couldn't execute any. John's expressions were a nice combination of anxious and excited, and Dean was pacing back and forth while Sam tried to settle him.

I had to do something.

Determined to provide reassurance that everything would be _totally _okay, the next time I woke, I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with an old woman, whose cheeks were splattered with blood. Her mouth curved into a twisted smile, and I noticed a long, silver blade in her hand, upraised and ready to strike.

I recoiled as a second blade entered the picture - through her throat - protruding at an odd angle. She slid to the ground, revealing a seriously pissed off Dean Winchester standing behind her, panting and holding that second blade.

"What the _fuck_, Cas? You almost got yourself killed!"

"I...I'm sorry, Dean. Something...something's changed…"

That voice - that's...that's _my _voice. I tried to look around, but discovered I was unable to move. But..._my body was moving_, turning this way and that, arms outstretched as if for balance.

"Cas...what's wrong?"

"Give me a minute, Dean...please…" My arm reached out for a wall that happened to be nearby, and my body leaned against it.

Gears turning, I asked hesitantly..._Castiel?_

_Yes, Kate. I...I believe I now understand what has happened._

_Is this what I think it is?_

I heard him sigh. _It is. You're my vessel._

**XXXXX TBC XXXXX**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Hrm. It gets a teeny bit explicit towards the end. Not enough to warrant more than a T rating, but I thought I'd give a heads up all the same.**_

_**A/N 2: I also had a lot of issues with the formatting - thought-speak is more difficult to express than I thought. Ha. Anyhoo, I used quotation marks to differentiate when Cas or Kate are speaking to each other. Please note italics for when it's internal, or when Cas is speaking out loud. Sorry if that's confusing, but it's the best I could come up with.**_

_**XXXxxxXXXxxx**_

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

It took another twenty minutes for the anesthesiologist to arrive and hook me up. By then, the room was crowded with Sam, Dean and John, with the others probably pacing in the classic hospital waiting room.

Normally, I hate being the center of attention. This time? I was thankful they were all there, jumping to help if I so much as twitched. If I was doing this, I needed them.

The constant ache combined with the cycle of contraction pain sucked the energy out of me. I already felt drugged, even though the doctor had yet to insert the needle. It took another twenty for that to happen, and by the time he was done, the pain was bearable and I could breathe through the spikes.

Conversations, however, became almost impossible. I was falling asleep between sentences, vaguely aware of the boys laughing at me. I had witty retorts ready to go - I just couldn't execute any. John's expressions were a nice combination of anxious and excited, and Dean was pacing back and forth while Sam tried to settle him.

I had to do something.

Determined to provide reassurance that everything would be _totally _okay, the next time I woke, I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with an old woman, whose cheeks were splattered with blood. Her mouth curved into a twisted smile, and I noticed a long, silver blade in her hand, upraised and ready to strike.

I recoiled as a second blade entered the picture - through her throat - protruding at an odd angle. She slid to the ground, revealing a seriously pissed off Dean Winchester standing behind her, panting and holding that second blade.

"What the _fuck_, Cas? You almost got yourself killed!"

"I...I'm sorry, Dean. Something...something's changed…"

That voice - that's...that's _my _voice. I tried to look around, but discovered I was unable to move. But..._my body was moving_, turning this way and that, arms outstretched as if for balance.

"Cas...what's wrong?"

"Give me a minute, Dean...please…" My arm reached out for a wall that happened to be nearby, and my body leaned against it.

Gears turning, I asked hesitantly…"_Castiel?"_

"_Yes, Kate. I...I believe I now understand what has happened."_

"_Is this what I think it is?"_

I heard him sigh. "_It is. You're my vessel."_

**XXXXX**

_**Now...**_

"_I'm your…"_

Was this spell designed to plop me in the most fucked up realities possible?

It probably was.

How the hell am I a _vessel_? What about the baby? I can't...I can't even look around on my own! This is…

"_Kate...__**please**__...calm down. I know you aren't the Kate from here, and I know you came from...oh. You were...you were in the middle of something over there. I...see."_

I was practically sputtering "_Cas - this is beyond weird. I don't - "_

"Cas! We don't have time for this. We need to get Sam. _Please_." Dean's expression and tone were desperate and confused, and his hand was on my arm.

Wait a second…"_Sam? Where's Sam? What's going - "_

"_Kate, I need to focus on this rescue. Please try to...settle yourself...and we'll talk when this is over."_

"Yes, Dean. Let's go," Cas said, pushing off the wall and following Dean down another corridor.

Realizing that Sam was in danger, I quickly shut up, pushing my curiosity into a closet somewhere. Being pregnant was definitely going into the top ten of completely weird sensations.

Being a vessel?

Topped it by a million.

There was no question that I was only along for the ride - moving and seeing and talking. But it _wasn't me_. I couldn't make a finger twitch or an eyelid blink. _Nothing _was within my control.

Castiel's presence was right "next" to mine. I wasn't worried or scared in the ways I was before...even if this wasn't _my_ Castiel. No one else knew I was around, so there wasn't any immediate danger to _me_.

I just needed to get used to being a passive participant. It was like being in a first-person video game, where you were the person, and someone else manned the joystick.

Dean slowed at the end of the hallway, holding up his hand for silence. He turned and nodded at me, giving some sort of hand signal. My face scrunched up, and Cas mouthed, "What?"

Dean rolled his eyes and gestured impatiently with his knife - _oh hey!_ It's the knife we found at Adam's house...the one with all the markings. I guess Cas understood what to do, because my head nodded, and I moved in front of a door. Holding out my arm, I felt a surge of energy flow through me, gather together, and channel through my arm and out of my hand.

The result was the door being blown inward, shattering into several pieces as it hit the floor across the room. There were several shouts of surprise, right before I stepped through the doorway, heralding the start of another fight.

Dean shouldered his way past, shouting Sam's name as he shoved the knife deep into one of the thugs guarding the room. The man's eyes widened, as the blade slid past his skin, and a bright light flashed from his eyes and mouth, dimming as he died.

What the hell?

"_Demons,"_ Cas supplied.

If I had a mouth to move, I would've sucked in a breath. That knife _kills demons?_ Holy fuck, I needed to tell Dad.

Cas flicked my arm, and a long, silver blade slid out of my sleeve and into my hand as I entered the fray.

By the end, six dead bodies were on the floor, and no indication that they were once possessed by spawns from Hell. Six innocent people. All dead. Each death bloody and violent.

I could feel Castiel's compassion for the hosts - a prayer was thought-spoken, wishing that their souls were in Heaven.

I hoped the demons were burning in Hell.

"Sam…" Dean choked, pulling my attention away from the victims. But I wasn't able to turn my head and follow the noise. That was gonna get seriously irritating, _really fast._

In what felt like slow motion, Cas turned around. In the far corner of the room sat Sam, tied to a chair. His head lolled against his chest, and there were bruises all over his face. Dean crouched in front of him, removing a gag and speaking soft words of assurance. "I got you, little brother. We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

Sam's eyes fluttered open, and I think he groaned a little. He definitely turned towards Dean's voice, letting us know he understood what was going on.

I was straining to run over, help him to his feet, touch his cheek, anything. But all I could do was watch, and watch impassively.

"_I'm __**not **__impassive about your brothers."_

I sighed...well, mentally sighed. "_It __**feels **__impassive, Cas, because I'm just standing here. I'm not over there."_

Castiel frowned. "_I'm not accustomed to this vessel struggling with my actions."_

"_Well that's...wait, are you serious?"_ How could this Kate not struggle with this? It was driving me nuts, and it'd been all of five minutes.

"Cas! We're ready. Zap us out of here!" Dean had his arm around Sam's shoulders, looking at me expectantly.

"Of course, Dean."

I walked over, touched both their arms, and we blinked out of sight.

Okay, I'm sure to everyone around us, we blinked out of sight. That's not how it looked from, well, the inside. On the inside, we seemed to enter a tunnel, where the sides were pictures, swirling every which way. The pictures, I'm thinking, were places we could go. The closer the picture to us, closer that place was to us.

We glided through it, passing several options, until Cas chose one that resembled a motel room. Then he simply stepped into the picture, and we were there.

Now, I didn't have a watch trained on this event, but I'm thinking that in reality (ha), it took all of a second, even though it felt much longer.

As soon as we appeared, Dean went straight for a bed, helping Sam sit on the edge. "Cas - hold him up, would you? I'm gonna get a towel."

Cas moved to Sam's side, taking hold of his arm, while Dean scurried into the bathroom. I watched Sam's face, aching to hold him, and wondering how he was doing. I wanted Cas to hold Sam closer, be more tender, ask him what he needed. But I kept my mouth (mind?) shut. I didn't know the rules of this universe.

"_This may help."_

Cas did something that felt like opening a gate (I'm surprised no hinges creaked for authenticity), and I suddenly felt and heard Sam's thoughts.

He was tired, he was sore, he wanted to sleep, he wondered where Dean went, he had information about what the demons were doing next, his head hurt, he was cold, he was worried, he missed Dad, he wanted Dean.

I mentally blinked at the onslaught.

Was that what I did to _my _Cas all the time? Yeesh…

Dean rushed back into the room and began dabbing the towel on Sam's cheek, which was bruised from a well-placed punch.

"_Cas - can't you just - "_

"_I know, Kate."_

Cas cleared my throat. "Dean - I can just...you know." My fingers waggled and pointed at Sam.

Dean's chin dropped to his chest. "You're right. I...I forgot. Would you? Please?"

He pulled himself to his feet and took a small step back, passing the washcloth between his hands, and giving me this hopeful look.

Cas nodded, placing two fingers against Sam's temple, and once again, I felt a combination of cool and warm energy course through me and my fingertips, entering Sam's body. I watched Sam heal - the blood vessels in his cheek repairing themselves, the gash on his side mended without a scar, the headache dissipated as his blood pressure lowered. All of this I saw, on a molecular level.

Even though I was trapped as an angel's vessel in an unknown universe, I recognized how cool that was. More importantly, Sam felt better, and the expression on his face confirmed just that.

Dean once more crouched in front of him. "Hey, kiddo, you okay?"

Sam blinked a few times, then twisted to stretch his back. "Yeah," he croaked, clearing his throat.

Dean was up and heading into the bathroom. "I'll get you some water...hold on."

Sam nodded and sighed. "Thanks, Cas."

Cas nodded. "Anytime, Sam."

Dean rushed back, somehow managing to keep all the water in the glass. "Here…" Dean handed it over, and helped Sam hold it as he drank.

"Mmm...thanks."

Dean took the glass and set it on the table. "Okay," he said, pulling off his jacket. "What the fuck happened?"

Sam sighed again, and ran his fingers through his hair. "They got the jump on me outside the coffee shop last night. I don't know how. They just did. They couldn't possess me because…" He pulled his collar out to reveal the tattoo. "So they just kept me tied up in a corner."

He paused to look up at Dean. "I think they wanted you to show up and try to rescue me, but I don't think they expected Cas."

Dean chuckled. "No one expects my Cas."

Sam gingerly stood, and took off his jacket. "I did find out that they're planning on making a lot of short term deals. They want more souls in Hell for some reason." His nose wrinkled at the smell of his jacket. "Oh God, I stink. I need a shower."

Dean nodded, waving a hand in front of his face. "Yeah, you do. And then you need some sleep. Go get cleaned up. We'll talk more when you're done."

Nodding back, Sam grabbed his duffel and headed into the bathroom.

Once the door clicked shut, Dean turned to me and folded his arms. "Okay..._your_ turn. What the hell happened back there? You said something changed...what changed?"

"_What are you going to tell him?"_

"_The truth, what else?"_

"_Wait - no! You can't do that!"_

"_Really? Why is that?"_

"_My Castiel said it could be damaging. I don't want to do anything that could hurt them."_

"_I don't wish that either. Besides, I highly doubt this would hurt them."_

"_What the hell does that mean?"_

"Cas?"

"I'm sorry, Dean. There was a...shift...in this vessel."

Dean unfolded his arms. "A shift? What does that mean? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. I promise. It was just a bit...startling, and most definitely ill-timed."

I huffed. "_That wasn't my fault. I can't control this."_

"_I understand that. But you have to admit - the timing was pretty bad."_

Dean nodded. "Alright. So what shifted?"

Cas hesitated, so I gambled. "_Compromise, Cas. How about you and I talk before you tell him?"_

Cas tilted my head and said, "Let me sort it out first. I haven't had time to properly process it all."

Dean considered this, then nodded slowly. "Okay, sounds fair. I want to talk with Sam a bit once he gets out anyway. But afterwards, I wanna go to bed, and you can share then. That okay?"

Cas smiled. "Absolutely."

Dean turned and started rifling through his duffel, waving one hand at me. "Go get changed. I hate it when you sleep in that fucking coat."

Cas looked down, and go figure - I was wearing a tan trench coat.

"_Really?"_ I couldn't believe that clothing options spanned universes.

"_What? I like this coat." _ "I like this coat, Dean."

"I do too, Cas. Doesn't mean you have to sleep in it."

"_You **sleep **in it? That's...I don't even know what that is."_

Cas closed my eyes, and when they opened, we were wearing shorts and a tank top. "_Better?"_

"_Yes, it is, actually. Just a little...skimpy…"_

Dean looked me up and down. "_Much_ better, Cas."

"I thought it would be."

How did Cas keep track of all these conversations?

Cas sat on the bed closest to the door (isn't that Dean's bed?) scooting until he lay on the side by the window. "I'll just be here while you speak with Sam."

Dean smiled and winked over his shoulder. "Sounds good." He piddled about with wards and weapons, while the shower ran.

Something was weird. I couldn't put my finger on it (HA) but something wasn't quite...right. Then again, I'd only been here a handful of minutes. I figured I'd chat with Cas, and maybe pieces would start falling into place.

I decided to start easy by asking, "_So...you know who I am?"_

"_From what your Castiel imprinted, you are their sister, trapped in a series of leaps into various realities."_

"_Okay...so that encoding thing worked. Awesome. Am I their sister here?"_

Cas glanced at Dean, who was changing in a corner of the room. "_You are...but you were not close with the Winchesters. In fact, you did not know they existed when I chose you as my vessel."_

Cas kept my eyes trained on Dean, who was shucking off his pants and walking around in his boxers. I felt like snapping my fingers to get some attention.

"_Chose me? Why? Is my dad around? Bobby?"_

Cas sighed and drew my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, keeping Dean in my line of sight. "_I sought you because I was destined to serve the Winchesters. Having a vessel from their bloodline made the connection that much...stronger. Your father died years ago. Bobby Singer is still alive."_

This is my, what, fifth leap? Each reality is vastly different, every set up something new. But it still hurt, every time, when I learned that someone in my family was gone, even though I didn't know or interact with them at all.

How many times was I supposed to lose them?

Sam came out of the bathroom, and tossed his things in a corner. He and Dean sat at the table and spoke together in low voices. I wanted to hear what happened, if he was okay, what was next -

"_Sam is fine, Kate. You already know that."_

I huffed. "_So...this me doesn't mind being a vessel?"_

Cas shook my head, even though we were speaking internally. "_She was not faring well when I found her. Being my vessel was a...better option."_

Better option than what? I was about to ask, when Dean rose from the table, clapped Sam on the shoulder, and walked over. Cas stopped talking to me as soon as Dean stood. I felt my heart rate quicken, and Cas ran my tongue over my lips.

Um..._whoa_, there…

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Sam toss a grin our way, before slipping on headphones and crawling into his bed. The bed dipped, and Dean was there, lifting the covers and sliding in next to me.

_Oh_, uh…

"_Cas?"_

No answer.

"So...ready to tell me what's going on?" Dean asked, his voice low and husky, his face close to mine.

Oh...oh my God…

Cas rolled onto my side propping my head on my arm. "There was a temporal shift in this vessel's consciousness. It's fine, now."

Dean lay down and wrinkled his brow. "You sure? She's okay?"

Cas nodded. "She is still fine."

He nodded and let out a breath. "Sometimes I wonder, Cas. I mean...does she know? Does she understand what's going on?"

Cas shook my head. "She knew enough to accept me as her vessel. But her mind was not.._.is_ not...capable of much more. I told you, Dean, she's at peace, now. Trust me."

Um…okay this was starting to creep me out a little. What happened to me? What does 'at peace' mean? It sounds like I'm dead, or a vegetable or...oh..._crap_. I'm obviously not dead...so...

Dean rested against his pillow, and reached out to touch my hair. "You _know _I trust you." He gazed into my eyes, and I felt _myself _shrink back just a tad. Cas, however, leaned into it.

"Then do not worry anymore."

No matter what I did, I got no response from Cas. It was as if I were shut in a corner, and was simply being ignored.

Awesome.

Then, it happened.

Dean leaned close, and kissed me. It was nothing like the kiss we shared at home. This was...this was something else entirely.

It was gentle, yet intense...tender, but insistent.

It was hot _(guh…)_, and also felt like I was kissing my brother.

Apparently, Cas didn't have that issue.

Speaking of which…._Cas was into Dean?_ _What the hell?_ Did that mean...was...I mean, were they…

Hold on.

While the necking and petting continued, I frantically ran over my conversations with this Castiel. I realized, with a start, that Cas's voice wasn't my Cas's voice. If Cas wasn't in the vessel I was used to, then how could I hear that voice? I must have projected it, because I identified with it. But...that was definitely not the voice I really heard.

Whoa.

Is he even a _he_?

"_I have no gender, actually. If that helps."_

_"Not really!"_

Cas actually paused a moment during a particularly passionate kiss. "_I see...you and your Castiel are together in your world?"_

Aaaaaand cue the fumbling. "_Yes! I mean, no! Well, it's nothing defined, but...he...I...__**fuck**__."_

Cas chuckled, low and throaty. "_It sounds like you have some issues to work out. Now, if you'll excuse me…"_

This turn of events left my head spinning. Dean and Castiel were together. This me was totally a non-entity. But I'm not a non-entity _now_. Right _now_, I'm passively having sex with my brother. How do you even _do_ that?

Yeah, this weirdness trumped everything else so far.

Dean applied pressure against my chest, pushing me until I lay on my back. Placing a hand under my shirt, he massaged my breast, looping one leg over mine. His eyes searched my face, and I was struck at the depth of affection reflecting back.

It was too easy to identify Dean's capacity for passion. He had no problem demonstrating said passion in regards to women, food, family, interests. He wore them on his sleeve, brandishing them like a badge of honor. It was how he defined himself to the world around him.

But on the inside...I always knew Dean had immeasurable capacity for love. When he felt, he felt completely and utterly, no room for debate. No sacrifice was too large, no concession too small.

"_That is what draws me to him."_

Dean leaned down, and kissed my neck, tracing a line with his lips toward my ear. His hand, I noticed, strategically slid down my body to -

"_And his...talents...are also enjoyed."_

I heard the smile in Castiel's voice, and I was once again completely shut out.

Well, not completely shut out. Here's the thing. Cas wasn't talking to me anymore. His (I can't say "its") mind was closed off. But _this _body was still _my _body, and I was _completely aware_ of what was going on. More bizarre, was that the physical responses weren't mine. They were mine, but not mine, but I _felt _them, I just couldn't _control _them or react to them..

Try to process _that _clusterfuck.

Then, things got a little more...intimate. There's no point in me actually describing everything Dean did and what Cas did back, because I don't think I could make the words go. At one point, I tried to "close my eyes", but I couldn't. So I tried closing my mind's eye.

That didn't work either.

My body's reactions were intense. Sweat ran down my face, my breathing was labored, and every limb was wrapped around Dean's rigid body and when we climaxed, I _swear to God_ I saw stars just before Dean rolled off me.

Cas closed my eyes, and lay there, panting from the exertion. Maybe I blacked out for a second.

I was simultaneously repulsed and turned on.

_I'm __**so **__going to Hell._

The bed jiggled as Dean sneezed next to me.

"Bless you," I said, without thinking.

Hold on…

I _said _it?

My eyes flew open, revealing a disheveled young Dean sitting next to me. His face was partly covered by tissues and his eyes closed as he sneezed yet again. It was daytime, and we were definitely not in that motel room and we _definitely _did not just -

"Do we _really _have to run today?" I turned my head and saw a very scrawny teenage Sam, sitting on a second bed, massaging his stomach. "I don't think I can do five miles."

Dean tossed the used Kleenex into a waste basket, which, I noted, was already full of similar tissue wads. "Doe choice, Sabby. He wants us to rud, so we rud."

I squinted at him. Was that English?

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Seriously, Dean, I can't do it. I threw up after yesterday's session, and pulled a muscle in my leg."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, well I feel like death right dow. I dod't wadda rud either. Deed to breathe…" He blew his nose again and huffed.

"_Fine_. I guess if I die while training, it'll be a noble death."

Dean tried to snort, but it didn't quite work out. He nudged me with a foot. "What's up with you? Why do you look like you have doe idea what's going ond?" He sniffled pathetically and leaned back against the wall.

I cleared my throat, enjoying that I could even do that. "Um...messed up dream...that's all." Rubbing my eyes, I looked around. I didn't recognize the room, but it was obvious that we weren't in a motel. Slowly, I sat up, adjusting to the abrupt switch in scenery and scenarios.

I really fucking needed _one goddamn minute_, to process what just happened to me.

Dean looked horrible. He was breathing through his mouth, I'm assuming because of the congestion, and dark circles were under his eyes. Frowning, I asked, "Do you have a fever?" I could've probably just reached out and felt his forehead. But I was a tad shy about touching him just then.

He shook his head no. "Just allergies. I hope." He coughed into his arm. "I think." He coughed again. "But it's godda raind today, so…" He shrugged and sneezed again. "_Jesus Christ_…"

Allergies? "Is there a cat here?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Are you crazy? I'd be dead by dow." He waved his hand around. "Just...spring."

Spring? Really?

Sam got to his feet, a pained expression on his face. "Great. If it rains, then _I'll _get sick. Fanfuckingtastic." He shuffled out of the room.

I really needed that minute, so I said, "Okay...I'm...going to the bathroom."

Dean just sneezed and nodded.

I peeked into the hallway. It was a normal looking hallway, just not one that I recognized. Not knowing where the bathroom was, I chose left and took two steps when Sam exited a room on my right.

"What're you doing?" He asked, in a voice that hadn't fully dropped yet.

"...Bathroom?" I answered, knowing at that moment, I chose the wrong direction.

Sam looked over his shoulder at the room he just vacated, then back at me. "Oooooo-kay, then maybe -"

I flapped a hand at him. "Yeah, yeah - I know. Was looking at the...stuff..." There was no stuff for me to randomly look at.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He went back into their room and I heard more whining as the door closed.

The bathroom was small but tidy. I closed the door and immediately checked myself in the mirror. I looked...like me. A younger me - maybe late teens? I had a scar over my right eyebrow, but otherwise looked normal.

Definitely not a mentally drooling mess as my last shift indicated.

Feeling like I earned a victory somewhere, I splashed water on my face, trying to clear the cobwebs and get ready for whatever this reality would throw at me. I reached for a towel and stopped short as I spied a two shelf cabinet mounted above the towel rack. Each shelf was crammed full of prescription and over-the-counter bottles and boxes in all sizes, pills and liquids.

_Holy shit…_

On the toilet tank sat some equipment I remember seeing in school nurse offices. Stuff for asthma sufferers, I think? What's it called...a nebulizer?

I looked at every bottle and box on those shelves. The medications covered all sorts of afflictions, including allergies, ulcers, asthma, upset stomachs, skin irritations, migraines, regular headaches, muscle aches, infections, nausea, diarrhea (oh, come on…), fevers, congestions, dizziness...

...and they were _all _for Sam and Dean.

**XXXxxxxXXX TBC XXXxxxxXXX**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

The bathroom was small but tidy. I closed the door and immediately checked myself in the mirror. I looked...like me. A younger me - maybe late teens? I had a scar over my right eyebrow, but otherwise looked normal.

Definitely not a mentally drooling mess as my last shift indicated.

Feeling like I earned a victory somewhere, I splashed water on my face, trying to clear the cobwebs and get ready for whatever this reality would throw at me. I reached for a towel and stopped short as I spied a two shelf cabinet mounted above the towel rack. Each shelf was crammed full of prescription and over-the-counter bottles and boxes in all sizes, pills and liquids.

_Holy shit…_

On the toilet tank sat some equipment I remember seeing in school nurse offices. Stuff for asthma sufferers, I think? What's it called...a nebulizer?

I looked at every bottle and box on those shelves. The medications covered all sorts of afflictions, including allergies, ulcers, asthma, upset stomachs, skin irritations, migraines, regular headaches, muscle aches, infections, nausea, diarrhea (oh, come on…), fevers, congestions, dizziness...

...and they were _all _for Sam and Dean.

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

My head spun at the amount of medicine crammed onto those shelves. Seriously - some were stacked on top of each other and threatening to fall onto the floor.

Now, we pride ourselves in a well stocked med kit. Dad always emphasized the importance of being ready for anything. But this...this was _a bit_ beyond that directive.

I'll admit that growing up, we weren't always in the best of environments. Run down motels and apartments were all we could afford. Food was a necessity, but nutritional food was a luxury. Teenage years meant a lot of all-you-can-eat buffets, where the boys could fill up at a reasonable cost. But despite all that, Dad made sure we were fit and trained, and sickness wasn't that common.

I'm guessing that moving around so much exposed us to a bazillion different cooties, which in turn strengthened our immune systems. Probably an unexpected bonus of the whole situation that Sam couldn't really appreciate in the moment. That doesn't mean they didn't get sick - because they did. But it wasn't anything chronic or ongoing.

So it was really difficult for me to process how they could be this sick _here_.

I left the bathroom and went back to the boys, pausing outside the door and, admittedly, eavesdropped on them. I figured that given the circumstances, I was fully justified in using any method necessary to gather information.

All I heard through the door was sighing and sniffling, shuffling and sneezing, none of which gave an indication of what this reality had in store for me. I knocked on the door, and jumped a little when Dean opened it, sneezing almost in my face.

"Whoa! Cover, dude!" I wiped my shirt and rolled my eyes.

He scrambled for a tissue, sneezing again. "Sorry…" he mumbled. "Took be by surprise. You doe I can't help it." He sniffled again, and blew his nose, shooting a pathetic look over the Kleenex.

Sighing, I reached out and felt his forehead. Instead of ducking or swatting my hand away, he leaned into my touch, shoulders slumping.

"You don't have a fever," I murmured, sliding my hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head. He hummed back and sighed.

"I just feel like crap."

Christ, they know how to get to me. I pulled him close, until his head rested on my shoulder. "I know you do. Did you take anything?"

He nodded.

"Recently?"

Another nod.

"Okay, so we just need to wait for it to kick in, right?"

Third nod, followed by a sneeze onto my fucking shoulder. "Thank you for that," I said with a smile, squeezing him. Dean's head shot up, and he took a step back. Puzzled, I tried to pull him back, but he was shaking his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Sorry…" he mumbled again, and began to turn away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...relax! I was teasing!" Mental note: This Dean was _sensitive_.

He sniffled and just stood there, staring at the floor. I was about to be more placating when I felt a tug on my sleeve. Sam was holding up two plastic pieces, a confused look on his face.

"I think...I think it's broken. Can you fix it?" He had his Eyes out, and combined with this slouchy posture, he looked fifteen shades of sad.

"Um...maybe? Lemme see it." Dean was preoccupied with another sneezing fit, which gave me a minute to check out Sam's problem. He gestured at another nebulizer device thing sitting on a night stand.

"I need...I need to use it, and I can't get that little part there into the slot thing and I don't know what to do." He handed over the pieces and began rubbing his chest, coughing softly. His lower lip quivered, and he looked about to cry.

Over _plastic_?

Dean was settling down, leaning against a dresser to keep himself upright. Taking the pieces from Sam, I used one to point at Dean, wanting to make sure he didn't run off in search of solitary confinement. "Don't go anywhere." His eyes widened, and he nodded, looking like I caught him stealing candy.

For Christ's sake…

I focused on the machine, and figured out how the pieces went together. In the back of my mind, I was waiting for Dean to shove me out of the way and fix it himself, because, well, that's his job. But it never happened, leaving a vague sense of _Not Right_ _Not Right_ in the pit of my stomach. After snapping the parts in place (nothing was broken, I think he had one piece upside down), Sam sighed in relief and sank onto the bed, giving me this expectant look.

"Uh...what?"

Frowning, he waved his hand over the nebulizer and picked up the mouthpiece, waggling it at me.

_Shit_.

I've _seen_ these things before. I've never _worked_ one.

"Yeeeeeahhh..." I glanced over my shoulder at Dean, who was watching with a calculating look on his face.

Oh wow - was that..._jealousy?_

_Really?_

"Hey - how about we all do it together? I put the pieces together. Dean - you come, uh, do the next part." I finished with a brilliant smile, and fuck me, it worked. Dean perked up at being included, and grabbed a bottle sitting next to the machine. Sam nodded and settled on the bed, resting his back against the wall.

I sat and watched closely as Dean flawlessly added medicine and handed Sam a mouthpiece/mask attached to the device by a long tube. Once I saw how it all fit together, I was confident I could do it on my own should the need arise. Sam held the mask in his hands, shifting it back and forth. He peeked at me from beneath his bangs.

Aw man, I cave at that look all the time.

"What?" I ask, irritated that they can easily manipulate me no matter the circumstances.

He looked pointedly at the bed, then back at me. I raised an eyebrow. Huffing, he reached out and took my hand, pulling me until I sat next to him. He smiled the smile of children who always get their way, and settled the mouthpiece in his mouth.

Dean turned on the machine, and got up to go, his head hanging.

I grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He tried to look confused, as if he had no idea what my intentions were.

Sensitive Dean likes to play hard to get.

I raised one eyebrow until he rubbed the back of his neck, and sheepishly crawled over the tubing and settled on my other side.

So there I was, in the middle of the bed, with a miserable brother on either side. Sam's head rested on my shoulder, his mask smelling faintly of plastic and menthol. His fingers were entwined in mine, and he idly toyed with the hem of my shirt. Dean curled into a ball and laid his head in my lap. He shuddered when I rubbed his back, and pressed a balled up tissue under his nose.

The thrum of Sam's machine filled the room, like one of those scented candles that's supposed to calm your nerves. I don't know if those things worked, but this gentle, rhythmic motor was doing the trick. Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind like Dad taught me, and sorted through this reality.

I had two sick, no, _sickly_, brothers, here. There was something about their demeanor that wasn't sitting well with me. When my brothers were needy, I moved mountains for them. But there's a reason for that.

They weren't needy _people_. They just have needy moments.

I mean, they have needs, and we need each other, but both boys were independent. They didn't like asking for help, and Dean especially, had a hard time accepting it.

This Dean? I glanced down as he burrowed his way closer, rubbing his itching nose against my leg with a sigh. This Dean was…

...pathetic.

I know that didn't sound kind. He's ridden with allergies and doesn't feel well. I know that. But I couldn't help comparing alternate reality brothers to my real brothers, and perhaps that wasn't fair, but how could I not?

He muffled a sneeze into his tissue, and curled into a tighter ball, whimpering.

_Sigh._

And God knew _my_ Sam could whine when the occasion struck him. Nevermind how often that was. But _this_ Sam's whining was a part of him. I could feel it.

So yes, I still sat here holding hands and carding hair and loving the quiet and the company, but it felt off.

I snorted to myself. Like being a vessel or pregnant with Dad's baby felt _on_.

Dean's differences struck me more than Sam's. Honestly? My Sam has his moments where he's one step away from this Sam. But not Dean. Even when my Dean's pressed against me feeling like shit, there's a presence about him. The presence part is lacking here.

Sighing again, I mentally shook myself and stopped being a bitch over people I didn't know. Who the fuck cared, really? I was stuck here for now. No one was dying, no was was trying to make dying happen, and no one was dead, I chided myself. Let sick brothers cuddle.

Who cares?

In a while, Sam's hands went slack, and after one particularly nice body twitch, I knew he was asleep. One peek at Dean told me he was passed out as well. The tissue he normally held in a death grip lay in the middle of his palm, teetering on the edge of his hand.

Since they were asleep, I figured it was a good time to snoop around. I carefully extracted myself, making sure to cover them with blankets and tuck them in before sneaking out of the room.

They make be pathetic, but that didn't mean I wanted them to be cold.

I made my way down the hallway, noting that there weren't any pictures on the walls to help me piece together information. Pausing at the top of the stairs, I gave in to the fear of facing whatever was down there. Perhaps down there, someone wanted dying to occur.

I swallowed a couple times and took a deep breath. Hiding upstairs wasn't going to change that I was here, and a drill-sergeant Dad was down there waiting for us to run.

I tiptoed down a few steps, but stopped as soon as I heard voices. I sat down, keeping my feet out of sight, and wondered who Dad was talking to.

"_*sigh*_ I know, Sweetheart, but there ain't much we can do!"

Fuck - I know _that_ voice. It's Ellen! I was about to run downstairs until I heard her say, "John's not picking up, and I don't think he ever will. We ain't heard from him in over a year, so what makes you think he'll answer now?"

That stopped me. Dad wasn't here? Dad wasn't in the picture...at all? So who's she talking to? Who's making the boys run?

"I know, El. I just...I'm worried about them. They're sick all the time, and Kate can't keep making excuses for them."

My mind whirled, piecing together the mystery voice.

"Bill, we gotta pick our battles. Kate's been trained to raise them. She ain't used to anyone else takin' charge. John set that up, and I don't see how we can change it."

Jo's father _Bill_? I didn't expect _that_...

"But it's been a year, Ellen. _A year_. Can't she see that we're trying to help?"

"She sees her brothers upset, she knows they're not well, and - "

" _*sigh*_ And _that_ shit has to stop. There's no way they need all that crap, El, and you know it."

Amen to that.

At least, that's what I wanted to believe.

"Bill, we don't really know that. John's never been able to figure out if that Demon really did something to them or made them think it did. Either way, why are we fighting with them over it? I don't see how it's worth it."

Something banged, startling me. "I dunno either. Fine. Just...fine. I'm done." There were footsteps, then a door slammed.

Biting my lip, I crept the rest of the way downstairs, and found Ellen leaning against a dining room table, shaking her head. When she heard me approach, she stood and shook herself, turning to face me with a strained smile on her face.

"Mornin', Kate!" Her whole tone belied the conversation she just had with her husband. I could tell the pleasant tone was forced.

I flicked my tongue over my lips, trying to figure out how to handle this. "Hey, Ellen…" I wandered over, stopping in front of her. What I wanted, was a hug. But from what Bill said, I gathered I was a tiny handful.

Ellen cleared her throat and picked up a dish towel lying on the table. "Hungry? Want some eggs?" She asked over her shoulder as she walked towards what I assumed was the kitchen.

I hadn't eaten since I was twelve and living with Sam. And that's not the most accurate way to judge time. Well, wait. That's the last time I _remember_ eating. I didn't know when _this_ body ate last. My stomach growled. Apparently a while ago. "Actually, yeah, thanks."

I smiled, following her, noting a slight frown appearing on her face before she turned around.

We entered the kitchen, and Ellen waved me to a seat at the table. Instantly, I obeyed, because, hey - _always do whatever Ellen says_. I sat with my head propped on my hand, and eyed my surroundings. The house was orderly and neat, very much like Ellen. There was no sign of Jo, either in pictures or in person, so I didn't ask about her.

Ellen opened the fridge and pulled out some eggs. Feeling stupid just sitting there, I asked, "You want some help?"

Ellen shook her head, setting a bowl next to the eggs and cracking a few into it. "I'm fine, thanks." She glanced at me over her shoulder. "How're the boys?"

Carefully, I answered with a shrug, "They're sleeping. Sam's using his, uh, nebulizer. Said he needed it. And Dean passed out from sneezing so much. His allergies are pretty bad."

Ellen's shoulders stiffened a bit, and she began attacking the eggs with a whisk. I thought back to Dean's behavior and Sam's tone, and before I could stop myself, I added, "And they're being a bit whiny about it." I froze, keeping my eyes on the table, as I cringed on the inside.

That should _not_ have come out of my mouth.

It took another heartbeat for me to realize that the egg beating had stopped. Hesitantly, I looked up.

And got a face full of water.

Sputtering, I shoved my chair back and wiped the drops from my eyes. "What the hell, Ellen?"

She slammed the bottle of water on the counter and tossed me a towel. "Well, you're not possessed. So tell me what the hell's going on." Leaning back against the counter, she folded her arms and crossed her legs at the ankles, and leveled a stare at me that could've bored a hole through concrete.

I carefully wiped my face, keeping one eye on Ellen. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're not acting normal. So start talkin'."

I took my time dabbing my face with the towel, trying to figure out what to say. I settled for something lame. "How am I not normal? I'm trying to be nice, and - "

She pointed a finger at me. "Exactly. You aren't nice. Ever."

Oh. _Ouch_.

I figured I was playing many different roles in this whole escapade, but being an asshole didn't seem like a part I could handle.

My mouth opened and closed, various explanations floating through my head, all of them bad. I tried this one, "Can we just say I'm having a temporary moment of clarity?"

Ellen crossed her arms again. "In our line of work, that doesn't happen without a reason. You know that."

I scrubbed my hands over my face and tossed the towel on the table. "I...I don't know what to tell you." Cas said not to tell. But it was killing me. The need to explain this, like I did with Pastor Jim, was overwhelming.

I wanted someone to help, someone who wasn't going to blink away for celestial duty.

Desperation flooded me, and I scrambled for what to do. My head started pounding, and I could feel the blood rushing in my ears. I knew what that meant, and I couldn't help it - I laughed.

I laughed, because the timing of it all was just too precious for words.

But laughing in Ellen Harvelle's face when she suspects you're not who you say you are was a really stupid move.

Something hard and heavy hit me in the head, and then everything went dark.

**xxxxx**

When I woke up, I expected sharp pain and maybe a trickle of blood down my face.

Not so much.

It was comfortable, I was warm in a bed, and it was quiet.

I'll take it.

I peeled open one eye and cautiously looked around. The other followed suit as I sat up slowly, my mouth open.

I was in my room.

_My room._

There's Bear, there's my duffel, my clothes, my dirty laundry...everything was there. Holy fucking shit - I'm home!

I leaped out of bed and tore into the hallway, stopping at Sam and Dean's room. They weren't there, but _oh my God_ - it's really their room! Same sheets, same furniture arrangement, everything!

I practically leaped down the stairs, running into the kitchen. Bobby...Bobby...was casually leaning against the counter, a huge mug of coffee in his hands.

"Mornin', Missy. What's the rush?"

"Oh my God, Bobby! You won't believe - "

And then I noticed a woman standing next to him. She turned around, smiling, her eyes wrinkled with amusement. "Won't believe what, Sweetie?"

I skidded to a halt, slipping on the linoleum floor and landing on my ass. My ankle twisted, and I swear I heard something pop.

"What the fuck?!" Bobby dropped his mug and ran over.

I lay there, on the floor, pain shooting up my leg, my cheeks flaming red and tears springing to my eyes.

Mary Winchester was at my side in a second, her hand on my arm, concern on her face. "Oh, baby...are you okay?"

**XXXxxxXXX TBC XXXxxxXXX**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Previously, in Quantum AU...**_

When I woke up, I expected sharp pain and maybe a trickle of blood down my face.

Not so much.

It was comfortable, I was warm in a bed, and it was quiet.

I'll take it.

I peeled open one eye and cautiously looked around. The other followed suit as I sat up slowly, my mouth open.

I was in my room.

_My room._

There's Bear, there's my duffel, my clothes, my dirty laundry...everything was there. Holy fucking shit - I'm home!

I leaped out of bed and tore into the hallway, stopping at Sam and Dean's room. They weren't there, but _oh my God_ - it's really their room! Same sheets, same furniture arrangement, everything!

I practically leaped down the stairs, running into the kitchen. Bobby..._Bobby_...was casually leaning against the counter, a huge mug of coffee in his hands.

"Mornin', Missy. What's the rush?"

"Oh my God, Bobby! You won't believe - "

And then I noticed a woman standing next to him. She turned around, smiling, her eyes wrinkled with amusement. "Won't believe what, Sweetie?"

I skidded to a halt, slipping on the linoleum floor and landing on my ass. My ankle twisted, and I swear I heard something pop.

"What the fuck?!" Bobby dropped his mug and ran over.

I lay there, on the floor, pain shooting up my leg, my cheeks flaming red and tears springing to my eyes.

Mary Winchester was at my side in a second, her hand on my arm, concern on her face. "Oh, baby...are you okay?"

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

Was I okay? I was about as far away from okay as a person could be. I tried to answer her, but despite my mouth going through the motions, no sound came.

I lay back against the floor and let the tears flow, hot and angry, down my cheeks, resting in small pools that clung to my hair. The total unfairness of it all consumed me, and I decided it was completely acceptable to let it wash over my body, both inside and out, and it didn't matter who witnessed it.

My ankle throbbed, my knee felt out of whack, my ass was bruised, and all I could do was laugh the laugh that makes people call the white-coated men because _Mary Fucking Winchester _was in my kitchen, fucking up what could have been my return to sanity.

Hands were on my leg and face, voices murmured in soothing tones tried to reach me, but I shut it all out.

I was still trapped.

That's all that mattered.

I curled onto my side and tucked in, whimpering when my sore ankle brushed against the other, causing more tears to course down my face.

"Kate? Hey...c'mon...let me get you off the floor…" It was Dean. Which Dean? Sensitive Dean? Absent Dean? Asshole Rapist Dean?

"Seriously, Squirt, uncurl. _Now_."

_Worse_. It was just _Dean_. I could hear it - so close to _my_ Dean that a grating laugh barked out of my mouth, and I shook my head. My voice sounded raspy, thick with spit and snot from crying. "I'm not your Squirt. She's not me. Not now. I'm not her. I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry_."

Breaths came in huge gulps, never bringing enough to the table, requiring even bigger ones to compensate. This was when the shaking started, and I wondered if I let my head hit the floor enough times, would I end up home?

_Huh_...actually, how will I know when I'm home? If every second could be split into infinite possibilities, how many possibilities would I embrace? How could I _ever_ know if home is truly home, and not just a reality exactly similar to mine _up until some point?_

That's when I rolled over and threw up.

The ensuing yelps of surprise were somehow satisfying, and I thought, that's what you fuckers get for...for whatever. It's just what you get.

Strong arms scooped up my trembling body and carried me into the living room. The voice attached to those arms groused in my ear, "You need a fucking toothbrush," and I cackled again at how Dean _this_ Dean sounded.

He gently deposited me on the couch, and I waited for the hovering to begin. I wished for a Kleenex, because Jesus Christ, my face was covered in tears and snot. As soon as that hit the mental atmosphere, a tissue did appear, and it gently wiped my eyes and nose, with the patience of a mother.

Speaking of which.

I sniffled pathetically (Sensitive Dean pathetic? _Nah…_) and peeked. Yep. She's still there, dabbing at my face, her brow wrinkled in concentration and worry. I squeezed my eyes shut again.

Breathe slow and deep, calm the heart, slow and deep.

"I got ACE bandages, Mom."

"Thanks, Sam. Wrap it, would you?"

"What the hell was that all about?" Bobby asked this one, and again I laughed, because I didn't even have to be here for this chitchat. And that made it funnier.

"I don't know, Bobby. But right now, she just needs to _calm down_, and then we can sort it out." Leave it to a mom to passively insert commands in casual conversation. A mom. Whose mom? Did this Mary want to kill me too?

So close..._I was so fucking close…_

One huge hiccup sob escaped my lips and the anxiety ramped up again. The probing hands disappeared and somehow that felt even worse. Taking advantage of the respite, and curled back onto my side, shivering with my arms wrapped around myself. I willed everyone to just give me a minute...just go away and let me have this meltdown. I'll be fine afterwards, I promise, and I'll go back to serving my punishment, pretending to be a million different Kates in a million different universes, smiling and obeying and faking it all.

But right now, I just want to cry.

They let me, so I did.

The winding down process began when there were no more tears left (at least for now), and despair had adequately filled every nook and cranny in my being, creating this enveloping numb pocket that allowed me to think again. I kickstarted the breathing exercises, and somehow avoided a heart attack that would have only made today that much more fun.

Eyes were on me from afar - I could feel them boring into my back, calculating, assessing, wondering, worrying. That should have been enough to rouse me from this...this whatever it was.

But not today.

So I just laid there, staring at Bobby's desk, wondering when he would ever get around to finishing it like he swears he will every summer.

A pair of faded blue jeans obstructed my view, and without looking up, I knew who it was.

"I'm fine," I whispered, my tone lacking the earnest necessary to be convincing.

I heard a sigh, and a scritching sound, which was probably Dean dragging a hand over the stubble he hadn't shaved yet.

He plopped to the floor, just off to the side, so he wasn't completely in my face. Without moving, I glanced at him. Head was bowed, hands clasping and unclasping in his lap, tension in his shoulders. Feeling my stare, he looked up, green eyes filled to bursting with unspoken questions.

I tested the water.

_If you hold me, I'll lose it all over again._

The hand fidgeting stopped, and he sighed again.

The emptiness in my stomach yawned wider when he understood my thoughts. I swallowed convulsively to keep it together.

_Not my Dean,_ I reminded myself. _Not my Dean. So close. But not my Dean._

Deep breath in. Slow breath…_ew..._

"I wouldn't say no to a mint, though."

His eyes closed with a shake of his head and a low chuckle. Nodding, he reached out and magically someone set an open tin of mints in his hand. Wordlessly, he held them out, one eyebrow raised, mouth curved into what could pass as a smile.

I flexed my hand before reaching out to take one. Three. My mouth tasted _baaaaad_. And my hands were shaking, so grabbing three was easier than fumbling for one.

The tin snapped shut, and was set on the floor. More silence, broken only by the mints tapping against my teeth as they played tag with my tongue.

With practiced patience, Dean simply sat and watched, knowing that I'd spill when ready. I gave myself the time to dissolve all three mints before deciding what to do.

Shifting a little, I tucked a hand under my head, pressing my lips together when pain shot up my leg. His eyes flickered towards my ankle, but the deep breath I took drew his attention back to my face.

If this world was close to mine, then they could handle it. I was banking on them handling it.

I guess I didn't really care if they couldn't, because I plunged right in, asking, "Do you know Castiel?"

Dean's eyes danced to the right, assumingly towards the others. "You know we do."

My eyelids fluttered closed before opening again, my resolve building. "Call him."

He tilted his head to the side. "Kate…"

Reaching out, I took hold of his hand, strong, calloused, _warm_.

_Not my Dean._

"Please."

Narrowed eyes searched my face. Not convinced. I squeezed his hand.

"Sam can wrap my ankle. Your...mom...can check my knee." His eyebrows raised at that part. _**Your**_ _mom?_ I ignored him. "Bobby can do...whatever you want him to do. Just. Call. Cas. _Now_. I don't know if he'll answer me."

Dean swallowed, and nodded. _Okay, I'll humor you._ He gestured at the people just beyond my field of vision. Permission granted, they rushed over, rolling me onto my back and starting first aid triage as if I were bleeding out on the sofa.

As Dean creaked to his feet, Sam took his place, crouching near, looking like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce. If predators cuddled when they pounced. Because I knew that's what he wanted.

I twitched when someone touched my ankle, eliciting swearing and apologies from Bobby. I sighed. "S'okay, Bobby." He grunted a response and kept wrapping.

Sam was wringing his hands and I swore he was more upset than necessary. But when wasn't that the case?

Then again, he didn't really know _this_ case.

How could I let him cuddle when he didn't know who he was cuddling? We both wanted the same thing. But it wasn't _fair_. It wasn't fair to _him_.

"Hey."

Hazel eyes laser focused on mine.

"You can't." His face fell and his mouth opened to protest. I shook my head. "You can't, because you don't understand." Goddamn tears welled once more. My voice broke. "I want it. You have to believe that. Because you're..._fuck_...I can tell...you're _so much_ like…" Deep breath. Too shaky. Try again. And again. Better. "It wouldn't be right. Have to trust me. 'Kay?"

Sam ran his hands through his hair and huffed out a frustrated breath. Eyes gazed at the ceiling before catching mine once more. He shook his head and flicked the ends of my hair.

It took everything in me not to crumble again.

I may have whimpered a tiny bit, though, which ripped through him like a knife.

He cocked his head to the side. _I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, but fuck you and your fairness bullshit._ He reached out anyway, and as soon as his arm moved, I was all, _thank fucking God please just fucking hold me_, when Dean's voice rang out. "Cas is here."

I sat up, quicker than expected, almost bumping heads with Mary. There he stood, still in his trenchcoat, back in the vessel I knew. His head was turned a little to the side, blue eyes locked with mine, and I could see the gears turning.

I leaned forward, eyebrows up, hands in a _Get it now?_ gesture. Cas straightened, comprehension spreading across his face, and he nodded slowly.

Figuring I could just jump into the conversation, "This was too close to mine. I thought I was home. Only…" My eyes flickered to Mary, squatting next to me, eyes jumping from Cas to me and back again.

"Only it's John who raised you, and Mary is dead," Cas finished.

Nodding, I affirmed, "Yes."

The relief at being understood, and having this discussion in a non-life threatening situation drained most of the tension out of me. The other emotions still churned inside, uncomfortable and restless, but there was some relief.

Someone understood.

Well, whoops, only _one_ person understood.

"What the Goddamn fucking hell is going on?" Dean growled.

Startled at the outburst, I looked around the room. Mary looked like I slapped her. She slowly rose to her feet, taking a step back. Without turning, I knew Sam silently got to his feet, moving to stand by his mom, his face screwed up in confusion and maybe a little fear.

And that's what I meant. Not fair. You don't understand.

_Not my Sam._

The increasing distance left me cold and alone. Aloner. More aloner.

_Sigh._

Shivering, I pressed the heel of one hand to my eye, and a few tears escaped. What's a few more, today? "You explain it, Cas. I can't." I curled back up on the couch and closed my eyes, letting them have their family moment to learn the truth.

I wasn't theirs. And they weren't mine.

I don't belong here.

There was shuffling, and I'm thinking they pulled back several steps as Cas explained what was going on. I couldn't make out the words, but their tones spoke volumes. Cas answered as patiently as he could with the limited information he had. I sniffled and tried to make myself as small as possible, running through scenarios of what would happen next.

If they kill me, their Kate has no body to return to, so I think I'm safe on that front. I could end up in Bobby's special basement room, which wouldn't be so bad, I guess.

Maybe I should've played along. Maybe I should've shut my fucking Goddamn mouth, and taken this family as is. If I enjoyed (mostly) resting with sick and whiny brothers, I should've been dancing with joy over brothers who were as identical as could be to my own.

Not that I had any definitive proof of this...I mean, I was going off my gut feeling, here. But somehow I knew I was right. I just knew.

And I blew it.

I fucking blew it.

More tears, but at least I wasn't sobbing. This was resignation. Another wrong move, another mistake. No wonder I'm the weakest link in the Winchester chain.

_Whoa_...pity train needs to pull into the station for a pit stop before it goes off a cliff. I clenched my eyes shut and got control of myself.

Again.

I'm gonna kill Uriel.

"That would be difficult, given his strength."

Sighing, I opened my eyes and found Cas right in front of me, personal space rules forgotten. Viciously, I spat, "Right now, Cas, I don't give a shit. He's dying bloody."

Cas let that hang there a moment, nodding slowing, understanding my sentiment even if the statement itself was ridiculous. He nodded at my chest. "Do you have scars on your chest? In your world?"

Swallowing hard, I nodded back. "Warlock amulet took a dive into me. You had me pull it out before you...sealed up the holes."

There was a gasp from somewhere in the room.

Sighing, I sat up, noting that they were all over by the kitchen now, far away from me as possible without losing sight. I pulled on my upper lip with my teeth, considering my next words. "I'm sorry I...worried you. This bedroom, your bedrooms, everything is so...so close. Normally I just play along, but...I just...I thought I was home." I looked at Mary. "I didn't expect to see you...it...yeah. I'm sorry."

I set my feet on the floor and tested out my ankle, which was now wrapped and nicely swollen. Cas rocked back on his heels and stood.

"How long will you be here?"

"Million dollar question, Cas. I have no idea - it varies." I unsteadily got to my feet, noting that Dean took an involuntary step toward me before stopping himself.

_Not my Kate._

"I shift whenever I shift. Right after Jess and Sam got married. Right before Dean killed me. Right before the Sam-Azazel combo tried to kill me and Michael. Right after you fucked Dean. Right before I had Dad's baby. Right after Ellen clocked me with a frying pan. I have no fucking idea when I'll shift." I was wobbling towards the stairs, keenly aware of the shock and horror and total _What The Fuck_ that radiated throughout the room.

I've _never_ felt more alone than right this minute.

Somehow I made it to the stairs during that rant, my arms out for balance as I managed the walk without help. The emotional outburst fueled me forward, despite the pain, both physical and emotional. One hand on the railing, I asked over my shoulder, "Can I just go to my...her...room and wait this out? I won't...I'll just wait there. Is that okay?" That last part was blatant begging.

I glanced over my shoulder. _Please let it be okay, because I can't sit here while you stare at me._

Mary nodded, her eyes wide, lips pressed together in what I suspected was barely suppressed...something.

I nodded back, and hobbled upstairs, shutting myself in my..._her_...room.

**xxxxx**

I gingerly sat on the bed, letting out a small cry of pain as the depth of my injuries sunk in. Without anyone else to distract me, I could now joyfully focus on how much my leg hurt.

_Hooray…_

Luckily, there was a box of Kleenex on my night stand. Plucking a few, I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, feeling a tiny bit better now that I was facially dry.

I leaned across the bed and snagged Bear off the pillow. Little Sam loved him. Sighing, I hugged it to my chest. Wonder if they had the contagion here, too.

I wonder if it even mattered.

With a huff, I set Bear down, and scooted until I could stretch out on the bed. I tucked a pillow under my ankle and took a look at my knee. It was already swollen and purple, indicating I did something awesome, but I'm not sure what I did.

Again. I wonder if it even mattered.

I laid down, palms open and kneading the sheet. What do I do now? Lay here and wait for a dizzy spell? There weren't many other options at this point, so that's what I did. Exhausted is how I felt, but I was terrified of falling asleep. Remembering the trick from Sam's, I grabbed a book from my table and a pencil, opening to page one and scrawling, "You're still fucked" in the margin. I shoved it under my pillow and closed my eyes.

**xxxxx**

When I woke, daylight had faded, leaving the room mostly in shadows. I could make out vague outlines of the furniture, but it didn't really matter, because I already knew where everything was.

Wake up depressed, why don't you.

The first thing I registered was overwhelming pain pulsing up and down the lower half of my leg. I hadn't taken anything for it, so naturally both joints were probably swollen beyond recognition. It threatened to drown all thought, so I tried really hard not to let that happen.

Second thing I registered was the overwhelming need to pee, and given the first thing I registered, I wasn't sure how this was gonna go down.

I just knew that pissing this bed was _not_ going to improve my mood.

Or theirs.

I reached over to turn on my lamp, which was, naturally, exactly where it should be.

_Sigh._

The book was an uncomfortable lump under the pillow, mocking me. My leg hurt. Wasn't that enough proof?

No...it wasn't. Not anymore.

Apprehension mounting, I dug under the pillow, licked dry lips, and stared at the cover.

_Stop being a baby and look_.

So I looked.

And I was still fucked.

It was both a relief and an irritation.

I tossed the book onto the nightstand and swung my legs onto the floor, crying out at the movement.

_Ohfuckingfuckfuck_.

Sharp and vague pain at the same time. stinging and aching and throbbing and pick a Goddamn simile to make this image crystal clear.

It fucking _hurt_.

Dragging a hand down my face (acting like Dean somehow made me feel better), I pushed myself to my feet, balancing on one leg. I teetered a moment before hopping to the door, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and crying at the jolts of pain that accompanied each of those hops.

Shouldn't I call someone for help?

_Who would come?_

One impatient wipe took care of the fresh batch of tears (of course there's more in there to fall). I took hold of the knob and opened the door. The light from the hallway was momentarily blinding, compared to the darkness of my..._her_...room. It took a second to adjust.

By the time I had everything in focus, the yawning chasm between myself and the bathroom brought a fresh wave of tears and maybe a growl of frustration. I leaned against the wall, and hop-limp-cried my way there, shuddering breaths and a threat of passing out foremost on my mind as I shut the door behind me.

I took care of the bathroom details, pointedly avoiding how I was going to get back to my..._Godammit_..._**the**_ room without losing consciousness. Steadying myself, I opened the door and almost yelped when Dean stood on the other side. I actually flinched, forgetting my note, forgetting he wasn't hostile, forgetting everything I knew because what did I know, really?

His lips parted and he sucked in a breath at my obvious fear.

Great. Now I hurt his feelings.

Stammering, I tried to make it better. "Sorry, you, uh, startled me." I leaned heavily against the doorframe, acutely aware that I was losing the battle to pain, and the last thing I wanted was to face plant in front of him.

Would he let me fall?

Probably not, because then his Kate would be hurt more.

_Not my Dean._

I stared at the floor, taking shallow breaths and mentally following the beads of sweat that were forming on my face.

"C'mon...let's...get you back in bed."

My eyes swiveled up to his.

_Not my Kate...but you need me. So…_

I blinked slowly and nodded, too warped to argue. Once again, he swept me in his arms and carried me to _the_ room. He gently lowered me to the bed, cinching his jaw to the side as I scrubbed my hands over my face.

"Thanks."

He nodded and picked up a bottle of pills that weren't there earlier, turning them over in his hands, making them rattle. "I, uh, brought you these, and I thought I'd...you know..." He waved a hand at my leg.

I nodded. "It's okay. Thanks for the pills. You don't have to…" His jawline set. "Right," I let out a sharp laugh. "Sorry...you...yeah. She shouldn't come back to this. I'm sorry."

Two heartbeats later, he opened the bottle and tipped out some pills, which I greedily took and swallowed dry even though he was about to hand over a bottle of water. He raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry," I whispered again, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"You need to stop apologizing. It's not like you did this on purpose." The bed dipped, and gentle fingers prodded my ankle and knee. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. "Christ, these are swollen. I'll get you some ice, okay?"

Not trusting my voice, I nodded, shoving my fist against my mouth _hard_ to keep from crying.

I stared at the sheets. He stared at me. We sat like that for a bit, then he sighed and stood.

"I'll go get that ice."

I just nodded again, not making eye contact.

He left the door open, I kept my fist by my mouth, and maybe I bit it a little in an effort to keep in control.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs. I heard the ice machine. Footsteps sounded up the stairs.

There was a knock at the door.

I looked up, and there stood Mary, hesitant and worried, carrying a couple bags of ice. "Hey there...may I come in?"

Sure - it's not _my_ room. "Of course…" I shimmied awkwardly to make some room for her to sit, assuming she'd sit.

Dad would sit.

I sniffled and grinned despite the tears. "Sorry I damaged her." This was probably one of the stupidest things I could've said, but I honestly didn't know what else to say. This was Mary Winchester - goddess of my family - standing next to me cradling two bags of ice.

The woman I almost traded my soul for when I was twelve (That's a whole other story.).

The woman Dad still mourned and Dean still missed.

The woman who died when Sam was six months old, two years before I was born.

And now I've met her twice.

She tentatively sat facing me, not saying a word. Tenderly, she examined the joints and strategically placed the ice. "It's not your fault," she began.

I huffed a laugh. "That's what Dean said. I know it isn't. Doesn't mean I'm not sorry." I kept my eyes on the sheets, afraid to look at her.

Clearing her throat, she rose and walked to the other side of the bed, and sat down next to me, legs outstretched, a foot of emptiness between us.

The former matriarch meets the current.

How surreal.

"So tell me what's going on."

I hesitated all of a second before spilling my guts, telling her about Uriel, the spell, the shifts, all of it. When I finished, I risked a peek at her. The light from the hallway lit up the left side of her face, which was lost in thought as she processed everything.

"And you said this reality is close to yours?"

"From what I can see, it's identical, except for…"

"Me, right?"

I nodded.

She nodded thoughtfully back. "So...in your world...?"

And here we go. "You...died when Sam was a baby. Azazel set his nursery on fire, killing you in the process."

Mary angled her head and lifted the corner of her mouth into a rueful smile. "Here, that's how John died." She must have known the next question on my mind, because she hastily added, "Sperm donor. Your mom, Sarah, pulled his number a couple years later."

Ahhh...the old jack-off in a cup trick. That's how we got Adam. "Makes sense," was all I said.

"What's he like?" She whispered, staring at the sheets.

Sighing, I wrapped my arms around myself when the ache of missing him hit once again. "Formidable." She laughed, and I marveled in how she sounded like Sam. "No, really. He's...amazing. Hunters admire him, monsters are scared of him, he loves like Dean and is loyal like Sam and...and he misses you like you would not believe."

Her breath caught, and her hand flew to her mouth as a small sob escaped her lips.

"Maybe...maybe this isn't what you really want to hear, but revenge over your death has driven him for over twenty years. His love for you hasn't diminished in the slightest, but now...at least when last I saw him...I think he's finally starting to heal."

Tears slid down both our cheeks. Silently, I handed over a Kleenex, and she laugh-sobbed a thanks while we dabbed at our eyes and blew our noses in the dark.

"And the boys?"

That question hit like a punch in the stomach. I answered honestly. "They are so much like yours, it's painful. I am...so close...to them, and…" I trailed off, not knowing where to go from there. I was explaining a bizarre sibling relationship to the dead mom of my brothers.

Mary's hand slid across the bed to hold mine. That small contact was like a life preserver, and I clung tightly to it. "My Kate is close to her boys, too."

I nodded slowly, already knowing that.

Needing to do something to ease her mind, I said, "I don't know if this is helpful or not, but...the Castiel I know told me that all the Kates I temporarily replace are in my world, sleeping it off. I have no idea what happens once I leave, but, um, I guess you'll know when she's back because she won't know what the hell happened to her leg." We both chuckled.

I thought about the Kate that Dean shot.

Well, she's probably dead, right? Because I got her killed?

Yeah, can't go there right now.

"It'll be okay. We'll figure something out while you're here. Bobby's already researching, and Castiel left to question some angels about the spell."

I thunked my head against the wall and huffed a laugh through my nose. "It doesn't matter, Mary. Who knows how long I'll be here? All that matters is...your Kate will be back eventually."

Heartbeat. "And you?"

Heartbeat. Shrug. "I'll be somewhere else."

She squeezed my hand and we sat together in the dark until the pills took over and I fell back asleep.

**xxxxx**

Daylight streamed through the bedroom window, illuminating tiny dust flecks floating aimlessly around the room. My leg still throbbed, but while I slept, someone re-wrapped my knee and ankle in heavier bandages, holding now melted ice packs and swollen joints in place.

Not trusting anything, I blindly groped for the book.

Since I was still fucked, I threw it across the room, disappointed when it landed softly.

"Don't take it out on literature. That's just wrong."

Twisting my head to look at the doorway, I flashed a brief smile at Sam, who was already walking over to where the book was teetering on a pile of laundry. Naturally, it landed on my page. He read it, then looked at me questioningly.

"Yeeeeah, that's how I can tell I'm still here and not somewhere else. 'Cuz...yeah." I ground my teeth together and forced another smile, which he saw right through.

"Huh," was all he said as he placed it back on my night stand, proceeding to stand there in awkward silence.

Feeling stupid, I sat up and started unwrapping the bags of warm water sloshing on my leg. Sam huffed and batted my hands away. "I'll get it," he murmured, sitting down and gently setting the former ice packs free.

I sat very still, watching him work, still not accustomed to the ache in my chest at having him here but not here.

"Breathe," he ordered, pausing in his work. "I won't hurt you."

Not realizing I was holding my breath, I let it out and ran a hand through my hair. "I know you won't."

His eyes flickered to mine, then back on the bandages. "I won't lie...this is weird." I nodded. "But...no one's angry or upset at you. We're worried for our Kate. That's all."

I nodded again, understanding.

Still felt incredibly alone.

But what was I expecting, really? When it's _me_ encountering various Sams and Deans, it's easy (_haaaa…_) to blend in and love them (mostly) wherever I go. I couldn't expect the same in return unless I'm faking it. They don't know who the fuck I am. They're taking my word at face value when I say they're doppelgangers of my family.

_Not my Kate_ rang louder than _Not my Dean or Sam._

"Breathe, Kate…"

_Godammit_.

I pursed my lips and huffed a shaky laugh, shaking my head a little. "Sorry…"

My head got cuffed, startling me. I looked up and got a faceful of Bitchy Sam. "There's nothing to be sorry for, so stop apologizing."

I made my best _Oh, Really?_ look, and cheekily replied, "Sorry?" Laughing when he rolled his eyes, and then letting it die gracefully with a sigh. Yeah, not really funny.

I needed help back to the bathroom, but felt so weird asking. My Sam would've just known -

"C'mon. Let's get you to the bathroom."

_Sigh. _"Yeah, okay."

He froze, hand out. "What's wrong? Don't need to go?"

I quickly shook my head. "Nonono...I do. It's...nothing." I bit my lip to keep from apologizing again. "I just need to get my shit together. That's all. I'm not adjusting to well to being here, and...I fucked up your sister's leg in the process."

Sam kept his eyes on mine, making me squirm a little. "What?" I asked, a teeny bit snappish.

His brow furrowed, as he searched for the right words. "Yesterday. On the couch…"

Shit. I knew where this was going.

"You knew me. And...I knew you. We...did that...thing…" He gestured between us. I nodded again. We never talked about the unspoken communications we all shared. It was just what we did, and it drew us together like a well tied knot. His forehead wrinkled even more. "I never would've thought you weren't her. No one else but Dean can do that."

"Surprised me, too," I admitted. I left out how much it hurt, knowing what I knew.

His features smoothed, and his Eyes went all doe-y. "That must've hurt like hell, knowing what you know."

Aaaaaand, tears!

"Oh, shit...Kate, I - "

I waved a hand dismissively. _Everything's fine - nothing to see here. _ "It's okay, Sam. Really. Um...bathroom? Please?"

His face fell. "Yeah...c'mon."

When I finished, he was waiting for me, propped against the wall, still sporting The Eyes. "Hey...Mom's got breakfast ready." Not Dad, not Dad. "Why don't you get changed and I'll help you downstairs? You slept all of yesterday, so you gotta be hungry, right?"

Taken aback, I wasn't sure what to do with the invitation. I thought hiding in the room indefinitely was an excellent plan, ensuring the least amount of heartache and embarrassment.

"You can't stay up here indefinitely, right?" Ohhhh, he said it like that's a stupid idea.

Cue the nervous laughter. "Right. That'd be dumb."

His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Once again, I leaned against the door, feeling like all my brother conversations would be held in this doorway. "Seriously what, Sam? I'm coming unglued at the seams, here, and I don't think everyone needs to witness that freakshow." I took a deep breath. "Again." He winced. "Besides," I softened my tone. "I think I hurt her enough, don't you?" Awww...three cheers for self flagellation!

Sam straightened, and I saw the lecture coming like a tsunami. I held up a hand, and pushed off of the door. "I know, I know. That was stupid. Cram the lecture and put away The Eyes. I'll...come downstairs."

He just stared at me.

"Can't walk, though, remember?" I added, pointing to my leg with a flourish.

One huff through his nose and he was at my side, helping me back to the room.

_That's better_, I thought-snickered at him.

Since his hands were busy holding me up, he thunked his head against mine.

_Fucker…_

We got back to the room, and he left me on the bed while he rooted around the dresser for some clothes. He yanked some out of a drawer and held them out. "Think you can manage, or…?"

I gave him my serious look. "No. I think you need to help me change my bra." His face paled. "Jesus, Sam, I can get dressed by myself. Just...gimme a minute."

I curled my fingers at him, wordlessly asking for the clothes. He tossed them at my head and left with a smirk.

As soon as the door shut, I sagged, amazed at how effortlessly I slid into being his sister, shocked at how smoothly he responded, and sick at how normal it all felt.

Through the door, I heard a loud sigh, telling me he felt the same way.

I quickly dressed and let him help me downstairs. They were all in the kitchen, drinking coffee and talking in low voices.

Bobby was at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Mary whisked what I assumed were eggs in a bowl. I remembered Ellen whisking eggs. Good times.

Sam lifted me and carried my ass to the table. He set me down and pulled another chair with a pillow on the seat close by. With a perfectly straight face, he asked, "You need me to lift your leg?"

Just as serious, I answered, "You need your hair cut?"

He thought about that, right before pulling my hair. We grinned at each other, easing my heart and loosening the heaviness that had settled in my gut.

Mary set the whisk in the sink and tugged on Dean's sleeve, partly because she needed him, and partly because he wouldn't stop staring at me. "Dean - finish up these eggs, would you? I want to check Kate's ankle."

Grudgingly, he nodded, moving to stand next to Bobby, who snaked an arm around Dean's shoulders, giving him a squeeze that really could've undone me right then and there.

I flashed a smile at Mary, who pulled up another chair and sat down to look over the joints. "Still looks awful. I'll get you more ice and pills."

"Um...maybe not the special ones, this time? Regular stuff is good...if...that's okay."

Mary nodded, and brushed some hair off my face. "Sure thing, baby." I raised an eyebrow, she tossed me a half smile. "You're John's daughter. Either way, you're John's daughter. That makes you mine as well. That's all there is to it."

I sighed through my nose, proud that I wasn't crying.

"Just promise me that whenever you end up home, you'll...you'll take care of him."

_Yet_ - I wasn't crying _yet…_

"And tell him I love him."

She wasn't helping my resolve to make it through the day without bawling like a baby. I pressed my lips together and made a tiny "Mmm-hmm" noise, nodding my head like a bobble-doll and digging my nails into my thigh.

There was a clang at the sink, and Dean was there, eyes rolling, tugging on Mary's sleeve. "Jesus Christ, Mom. Give her a break, would ya?"

Mary stood, huffing and wiping her eyes. "What? I was just - "

"Yeah, yeah, _you were just._ Go scramble some eggs, woman." He shoved her towards the stove, sharing a look with Sam that screamed _Good Grief._ Bobby snickered and gave Mary a kiss on the cheek, laughing outright at her continued huffing.

Sam winked at me, and left to go...I dunno where, he just left. Dean sat in Mary's chair, pulling at his chin, and nodding at my knee. "How is it?"

I studied him, running through options of how to respond. Sam and I were okay. Dean was always a different story.

Dean smacked his lips and gave me his patented big brother look. "Don't fucking lie to me, either. I'll…" He took a breath, and bored his eyes into mine. "I'll know. I don't know how that's possible, but I'll know. So just...tell me." He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and waited.

_Not my Dean_...but it was really hard to tell the difference.

"Can't really put weight on it. It's…" I swallowed and shifted in my chair. "It hurts. A lot." I left it at that, knowing that descriptive language wasn't necessary, here.

Dean grimaced and nodded. "That's what I figured." He hesitated a second, then reached out and cupped my cheek, running his thumb over it.

Breathing became difficult. "Hey...what happened to giving me a break, huh?" The jibe ended in a squeaky plea, prompting Dean to flick my ear.

He waggled his eyebrows, and stood up. "I'll get those pills." He ruffled my hair and went to the cabinet.

Despite my wanting to go home, I knew leaving here was going go be a bitch.

**xxxxx**

After breakfast, we gathered in the living room, like...always. Bobby at his desk, Mary reading over his shoulder, Sam in that creaky armchair, and Dean on the couch with me.

Absolutely. Just like...always.

Castiel showed up, reporting that the angels were no help (oooh, big surprise) in figuring out the spell Uriel used. He kept shooting me weird looks, like he just couldn't believe I was there.

Join the club.

He stayed a while to help search Bobby's library, commenting on various spells and their histories until Dean beaned him with a pillow to make him stop. The pills took the edge off the pain and I actually relaxed. Cas shuffled over and crouched in front of me. "I was so...caught off guard when you first appeared. I should have offered to heal you."

Well, shit. That didn't occur to me either.

As he reached out with his hand, I heard a familiar rustling sound and felt that downy caress on my cheek. I sat up, my book sliding to the floor with a thud. "Cas?" I asked, scanning the room.

"Yes?" Came...two replies...from two Castiel's...

"Whoa!" Dean yelped, leaping to his feet.

Bobby had his shotgun out so fast that even Mary blinked at him in surprise. I held up my hands. "No! Wait! That's - that's my Cas!"

"_Your_ Cas?" Dean sputtered.

Sam held up his hands. "Hold on - time out. How did he get here?"

My Cas took a few steps toward me, a frown on his lips broadcasting concern over my elevated leg and ice packs. Even though he didn't make eye contact with Sam, both he and their Cas answered in unison. "Angels can bend time and space when necessary to travel through realities."

Cas stopped moving and raised his eyebrows at their Castiel, who mimicked the same expression as he slowly stood. "Interesting," their Cas murmured.

My Cas frowned even more. "Indeed." He turned to me. "I see what you mean about the coat."

I gestured wide with my hands. _There you go._

"Cas?" Bobby demanded, gun still raised.

Their Cas sighed. "It's okay, Bobby. He's...safe." His head tilted. "He is her me. From Kate's reality. How fascinating."

"Agreed." My Cas nodded, and continued to my side, taking in everyone's expressions. His gaze paused at Mary and he breathed a barely audible, "Ahhh…" Cas turned to me. _The original matriarch, I presume?_

I glanced at Mary and smiled. _Yeah...she's...she's really nice._

He did that head tilt thing and his eyes got all soulful, I suppose his version of Sam's Eyes. _I would only assume so. _ _How did you get hurt?_

Why the hell was his tone accusing? It's not like I did this on purpose. _Short story is that I fell, like an idiot, when I realized I wasn't...home. This place is so much like ours. It actually fooled me, until...until I saw her. Anyway. Your twin was about to heal me._

His hand was under my chin, angling my face towards his. _I believe you've been here a day already. Why hasn't he healed you before now?_

"Um...hello? What're you two doing?" Mary stepped from behind Bobby's desk, hands on hips and looking like...like a mother protecting her child.

Wow.

Their Cas was watching us closely, his eyes thoughtful. "They are communicating."

"Communicating?" Sam asked, eyes wide and curious.

Oooh, now I felt like more of a freakshow. Cas dropped his hand (but not before he gave me a gentle squeeze).

Their Cas turned to my Cas (that was getting cumbersome). "I wondered what I sensed in her when she arrived. The Kate from here did not retain any grace when I healed her wound from the amulet. But - "

Stunned by that statement, I stupidly tried to enter the conversation. Physically. "Whoa there, what the hell are you talking about _owwww…_._Goddammit…_" I clenched my eyes shut. "Would one of you just fix this?"

"Oh my God, why didn't we think of that?" Mary muttered.

My Cas's fingers pressed against my thigh. The energy rush this time was cool and pleasant, shooting straight to my knee and ankle, and just like when I was his (still can't say its) vessel, I watched the repairs unfold. When the tingling died down to a few sparks, he removed his hand.

I opened my eyes and tested it out, first resting my foot on the floor, then carefully standing, noting Dean's hand automatically reaching out to support me, even though he was a few feet away. I breathed a sigh of relief. "_Thank_ you." I gave my Cas a look. _We can talk about the grace stuff later, I suppose._

He nodded grimly.

The other Cas, however, "It's getting stronger. How is that possible?"

_Or now…_

Cas looked embarrassed, all of a sudden absorbed with a button on his coat. _We shouldn't discuss it here._

"Does it matter?" I asked, glancing at Cas, who looked relieved that I understood. "It's...it's not a your Kate thing, right? So...she's okay. Speaking of which, are they all still okay? Sleeping or whatever?"

Cas straightened up. "Yes, they are still sleeping, as time continues to be - "

"In a stasis, allowing for the differentiation between her shifts and her reality." Their Cas shook his head. "This is a powerful spell. Why would Uriel…" He looked from my Cas to me and back again. "Your grace. That's what caused this."

My Cas sighed, and I took a step closer to him in a pathetic effort at comfort. "I am not sure if your Uriel is the same as ours, but ours - "

"He's a dick," I finished for him.

Cas opened his mouth to protest how angels weren't dicks, they had a greater good in mind, God's Will, yadda yadda yadda. Instead he shrugged. "Yes, he is a dick."

Dean snorted.

"There is discontent among our brothers, and it is getting...complicated." Cas looked around, and I sensed a touch of nervousness in him.

The other Cas nodded. "These aren't matters that can be altered or affected from here, so I understand your...hesitation...to discuss them further."

"Cas," Mary began. Both angels turned, and she huffed in frustration. "Not you..._you_." She pointed at my Cas. "You can't just...zap her home? Make the Kates swap and…" She gestured around with her hands, like this was a game of charades.

Cas sighed. "No, Mary, I cannot. The spell must run its course, and I cannot determine how long that will be. Removing Kate's consciousness from the bodies she inhabits is not...wise."

The other Cas nodded. "I agree. The potential danger to our Kate, and any other Kate, is incalculable."

"And totally not worth the risk," Dean chimed in. He pointedly looked at me. "For either of them."

I lifted the corner of my mouth in a small smile, which he returned.

My Cas took hold of my elbow. "May I...speak with her in private for a moment?"

"Of course, Cas…" Mary answered, polite, but the curiosity was there.

We walked into the kitchen, and stood by the back door, as far away from them as possible.

A horrible thought crossed my mind. If he tells me they're all possessed, I'm gonna -

"No, Kate, they are not possessed."

I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against a counter. "Okay, then what's up?"

Cas flicked his tongue over his lips and took a deep breath. "I wanted to first make sure you were truly okay. I sensed...a great deal of turmoil, and I was a little reckless just showing up in front of everyone, but…"

"I'm fine, Cas. Really. Had my mid-spell crisis and I'm ready to get back in there and make it awesome." I ended lamely, with a shrug.

Frowning like he didn't quite believe me (really?), he scuffed his foot on the floor.

"What?" I prodded him with my foot (which now moved pain-free!).

He chewed on his lip, "I, um, also wanted to, um, assure you that I, _personally_, that is, _me_...I identify with, I mean if I had to choose - "

Holy shit - he's blushing! "Spit it out, Cas."

"I'm male."

I blinked at him.

"I mean, I suppose that technically, I am not _really_ male because gender is dependent on many factors when one is celestial, however, despite my vessel being male, I have always preferred that gender." His eyes widened. "I don't mean preferred as in _a preference for in others,_ although truly that is not an issue of concern in Heaven, I simply meant - "

I grabbed the back of his head, and pulled Cas to me, kissing him full on the lips. My mouth still on his, I murmured, "I get the picture. It's okay."

We parted slowly, and I noticed, smugly, that he was _really_ blushing now.

"Yes. Well. I..._yes_. Good. Everything's okay then. Excellent."

Aaaaand we stood there.

Why not make it more awkward? "So. What about the grace thing?"

"Ah, yes. I wasn't sure if that was the case, but this Castiel confirmed it."

I toyed with the edge of his coat. "So...is that bad? I mean, I don't know what grace really is, or what it does, or…"

"It's not a bad thing, exactly. But I believe that to Uriel and some of the other angels, it is a _very_ bad thing."

I didn't know what to say. Of course I noticed _some_thing was going on. That tingling sensation, the early detecting, the actual Instant Messaging via Thought ability that went _way_ beyond what I had with my brothers. I mean, those words we imagined the other saying, it was just that - imagined. We know our _intentions_, and we make up the rest.

This was...something else entirely.

And I had to admit...I liked it.

"I'm still trying to sort through it all. It's...very new to me, and it definitely isn't something that happened on purpose. I...didn't want to say anything until I was sure. But now…" He glanced over his shoulder at the other room and shrugged.

"It's okay, Cas, really." How many times have I said that to people? "As long as it isn't gonna make this whole spell thing worse, or - "

"Nono, I don't believe it will. Well. As far as the mechanics of the spell itself? No. Other angels detecting you? I don't know. This Castiel did more probing than most would, given the circumstances. I - I cannot be sure, Kate. I'm sorry."

Shrugging, I let go of his coat. "No big deal. It'll just make it more interesting." I stared out the back window. "At least now I know that wherever I end up, you're with me, even if it's through your grace." I glanced at him. "Which you will explain when I get back. Deal?"

"Deal." He smiled for a very short second before his eyes drifted off and he appeared to be listening to things I couldn't hear. "Kate, I need to - "

"Go, yeah, I know you do." I sighed. "I wish you could just…"

His hand was back on my cheek. "I know. I do, too." He hesitated, did the equivalent of a mental shrug, then kissed me again, soft and sweet. "I'll find you again as soon as I can."

**xxxxx**

The rest of the day passed quickly, and bizarrely. Even though we were all acutely aware that I wasn't their Kate, I was so similar, that we all behaved as if I were. And I suppose on my end, I behaved as if they were mine.

With that one glaring exception.

The arrival of my Castiel ended the need for research on the spell. Both angels were fairly adamant that this thing had to run its course, so all that was left was for me to temporarily latch on to those that gave me sanity.

Late in the day, I went onto Bobby's porch with a beer, and tried to soak up the _This Is Home_ aura that leaked from almost every inch of this reality. I had this sinking feeling that my time here was going to end sooner than I wanted, and while normally leaving wasn't a bad thing, I also knew with absolute certainty that the next shift would not be home.

And that I wouldn't be home for a while. A really, really long while.

I was starting to accept that, and it actually...helped.

I sat on the porch swing, and imagined Adam sitting next to me and Dean swatting Sam on the head, while Dad and Bobby argued over the authenticity of some zombie video game. It fit - that image and this place, making me smile.

The door opened, and Sam came outside, spotting me on the swing. "Hey...you okay?"

If I had a salt round every time someone asked me that…

"Yeah, just...thinking." I started peeling the label off my bottle to keep my focus off him and the uneasy feeling in my chest.

The door squeaked shut, and I thought he went inside, until the swing jostled as he sat next to me. He leaned back, arm wide across the back of the swing, legs stretched and crossed at the ankles.

"Our Kate likes it out here, too. Said it helps provide clarity when there's too much to process." He initiated a slow rocking movement that the chains gently protested.

"Mmm…" I hummed back, agreeing with her, but not needing to say so. He already knew.

"So…"

"Soon, I think," I interrupted, knowing what he was going to ask. The swing stopped moving. Leaning back, I rubbed at my eyes, letting the half-peeled label flap gently in the breeze. "No reason to really think so, I just…" Shrug. "Think so."

He nodded, and the swinging continued.

There wasn't anything to say. And while the silence was nice and comforting, it was also deafening and empty.

But there wasn't _anything_ to say.

Every shift was unexpected, occurring in moments when I was so preoccupied in what was happening _right then_, that I never had the opportunity to...well...wait for it. Now I'm waiting for it. I'm dreading it. I'm scared of it.

But they want their Kate back.

So I have to leave. There's no other way.

Maybe concentrating on the "it'll be better for them" aspect would help. Maybe if I remember how my leaving makes their family whole again, it'll be easier.

Maybe I shouldn't have come downstairs for pancakes.

I pulled my knees to my chest and fought against the butterflies in my stomach. Sam took the bottle from my hands, and held me tight.

I stayed there until I left.

**xxxxx**

I didn't want to open my eyes. I was drowning in sorrow and grief and pain and anything else I could throw into this emotional salad. What was waiting for me here? Another practically identical universe? I was pretty sure my heart couldn't take it. If it was, I was done. I just knew - I was done.

Something flicked my ear, and I swatted it away.

It flicked again, harder, and I opened my eyes with a low growl, finding myself face to face with amused green eyes and a freckle-frosted nose.

_Dean_.

But...not...Dean...

"About time you woke up, Squirt. Dad wants us running in ten. You get to wake Sam. I'm not dealing with the premenstrual bitchiness today."

_Dean_ yawned and sat up, long brown hair cascading down her back. She glanced at me, and nodded at something, in bed behind me. "I'm serious - she won't listen to me, she sure as fuck won't listen to Dad, and I'm fucking tired of tiptoeing around her moods. So today, she's yours, alright?"

My mouth opened, but I just nodded, utterly afraid to say a single thing, let alone look behind me.

"Awesome sauce. Hurry up so you can help me braid my hair."

**XXXxxxXXX TBC XXXxxxXXX**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

I didn't want to open my eyes. I was drowning in sorrow and grief and pain and anything else I could throw into this emotional salad. What was waiting for me here? Another practically identical universe? I was pretty sure my heart couldn't take it. If it was, I was done. I just knew - I was done.

Something flicked my ear, and I swatted it away.

It flicked again, harder, and I opened my eyes with a low growl, finding myself face to face with amused green eyes and a freckle-frosted nose.

_Dean_.

But...not...Dean...

"About time you woke up, Squirt. Dad wants us running in ten. You get to wake Sam. I'm not dealing with the premenstrual bitchiness today."

_Dean_ yawned and sat up, long brown hair cascading down her back. She glanced at me, and nodded at something, in bed behind me. "I'm serious - she won't listen to me, she sure as fuck won't listen to Dad, and I'm fucking tired of tiptoeing around her moods. So today, she's yours, alright?"

My mouth opened, but I just nodded, utterly afraid to say a single thing, let alone look behind me.

"Awesome sauce. Hurry up so you can help me braid my hair."

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

Dean left our room to go to the bathroom, leaving me gaping after...her.

_Her?! _

Holy shit.

I mean..._holy fucking what the fucking hell shit_.

There was mumbling behind me, and some lip smacking, followed by a knee in my ass. I closed my eyes, thinking that perhaps if I clench them (my eyes, not my ass) together hard enough, when I turn to look, Sam will be Sam.

I turned around.

He's a she. He's Samantha. _For real_.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. I laughed, chortled, giggled, guffawed, everything. All of it. And not in the white-coated men sort of way.

This was just simply...fucking..._hilarious_.

And I needed something straight-up hilarious.

What would be the angst for this 'verse? Sam has cramps? Dean's having a bad hair day? Dad..._okay_, Dean said Dad, so Dad's not really a mom, unless he's a...yeah, that's probably too complicated.

I settled down, wiping my eyes on the blanket, and took a few deep breaths to help me keep it together. Clearing my throat loudly, I nudged Sam, smirking when she rolled over and sent me a pissy look.

"Rise and shine. Dad wants us running in a matter of minutes."

_Whoa _- on a girl, the bitchface is _amaaaaaazingly_ more bitchy. "C'mon, Sam. Let's get it over with, okay?"

She blinked at me, and the bitchface melted off and turned compliant. _Mental Note:_ _I have to teach my Sam to do that._ "Katie...can you...can you get me out of it? _Please?_"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Really? You think Dad will let you out if I just ask?"

Sam sighed and hid under her pillow. "Maybe if you ask the right _wayyyyy…_" Her voice was muffled, and the tone overly optimistic.

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. "No can do. C'mon...get up."

She growled into the pillow, pushing it hard against her face. I wrestled it away, holding it above my head and out of her reach. After pounding the mattress twice, she rolled out of bed and stomped to the dresser.

I watched her move, amazed at the similarities between Sam and...Sam, only this Sam had short, tawny colored hair. I didn't know what kind of cut it was, and I was sure there's a name for it, but simply put, it was...cute on her. Him. _Her_.

_Ahhhh_...this was good.

She shot a glare over her shoulders. "You better get up too, then. I bet Dee wants her hair braided so it doesn't get in her precious face."

Holy cow.

The snarkiness was just so...

_Mental Note:_ _Do NOT teach my Sam this._

I climbed out of bed and realized that I had no idea where my clothes were. "Hey, Sam, would you toss me some clothes?"

Glare.

"_Pleeeeease?_"

One huffy sigh and eye roll later, I had shorts and a T-shirt sailing through the air towards my head. "It's _Sami_, not Sam." I almost lost it and cracked up again. "I dunno which bra you want, so you come pick that out." She gestured grandly at a drawer as I walked over.

We both dressed quickly, knowing that we didn't have much time left. Sam, I mean, _Sami_, didn't say a word the whole time, preferring to huff and mutter under her breath. I didn't say anything, either, instead marvelling at how my brothers were now my sisters.

Dee came back in the room, flashing me a quick _thank you_ smile when she saw Sami tying her shoes. "Bathroom's open, and there's juice on the table. Once Katie braids my hair, we can go."

Sami made these mimicking sounds and a nasty face before stomping out of the room.

Dee turned to me, pulled on her hair and silently screamed. "I told you - she's being such a bitch!"

I sighed. "I know...but _why _is she being a bitch?"

Dee grabbed a brush off the dresser. "I don't give a fuck why. She just needs to quit, or Dad'll make her run more. You know how that goes. I don't understand why the hell she doesn't get that. I mean, if he hasn't changed his _Do As I Say Now_ policy by now, he isn't going to. Know what I mean?" She handed off the brush and sat expectantly on the bed.

I stared at it, thanking the universe that I watched those YouTube videos on hair braiding a month ago.

Hey - I acknowledge that I'm female, even though I don't always act like it.

I motioned for her to turn around, and began brushing her hair. "Yeah, but why can't Dad understand that Sam's needs aren't always going to match his?"

She sighed. "I dunno, Kate. It's not like he confides in me, you know? He's obsessed about finding the Demon. He _needs _to fight the evil of this world, and a trigonometry test isn't going to trump that. He'll give us his little lecture on how people's lives are at stake, and then there we'll be, sending a spirit back to wherever the fuck they go. We go home, or at least the home _du jour_, smelling like smoke and charred human, and go the whole thing starts over again. Now why in the world wouldn't Sami want that?" She sighed again. "I wish she'd understand that I'm trying to keep her out of trouble. Instead she fights me on every step. That's why I need you to help - you're not giving her orders like I have to, so she listens to you. Doesn't matter that you're younger. Are you gonna braid my hair or just stare at it?"

I was standing there, with my mouth hanging open trying to process the onslaught of everything verbal that this Dean was throwing at me. I don't think my Dean's said this much in a week, let alone one minute. "Oh, right. Sorry!" I frowned as I clumsily did the whole over-under pattern with sections of her hair, tying the end with the ponytail loop. I critically examined my handiwork and realized that this Dean made a better girl than me.

When I asked her that question about Sam, it was sort of rhetorical. I usually hold those conversations in my head with myself or with my imaginary Dean Winchester. You know - the one who actually engages in discourse. Yes...the one that doesn't exist.

Unless he's a chick.

Then he apparently doesn't shut up.

"Anyway. No use worrying about it now. We need to get these miles in, and be ready for when Dad wants to gank the spirit." She stood and stretched, showing off her body. I looked down, and noted that I was still the physically unimpressive sibling.

Good to know that some things don't change.

**xxxxx**

Dad was gone by the time we left. Dee said he was gathering information on the hunt, and would call later. I was hoping to see him, since he wasn't alive in the last shift.

The run wasn't bad. In fact, it was a welcome activity since I've been mostly cowering, freaking out, angsting or almost giving birth. My head cleared, my heart eased, and I came to this nice Zen place emotionally, where I accepted this whole curse and was ready to tackle it all head-on.

Again.

What a laugh.

Sami stayed in front, as if trying to get home faster than any of us so she could return to...whatever. Her back was rigid, and she never turned around to make sure we were following her. I think it's partly because she didn't have to.

Dee, running at my side, managed to chatter even while running, I know there are some running expert people who say that joggers should be able to hold a conversation while jogging. Those expert people never had John Winchester making them run. Knowing that training was controlled by Dad, and she was still able to talk through it...well. I was impressed.

And exhausted from trying to keep up with everything Dee was saying. She had comments on music, fashion, Dad, hunting, Caleb (_really?_ A crush on _Caleb?_) and anything else that popped into her head.

Back at the apartment, we gulped down water and caught our breath in the kitchen. Mid swallow, Dee's phone rang, startling her and making her spit all over herself. I tried not to laugh out loud. Sami didn't try so hard.

"Hello?...Oh, hey Dad. … _Yes_...we ran." Eye roll. "Yes, we _all _ran." Sami's eye roll. "Wait..._what?_ But … Dad! _*sigh*_ Yeah, okay. … Yeah, I know where it is. … Be careful, okay? … Love you, too."

"What'd he say?" Sami asked, as she placed her glass in the sink.

Dee toyed with the phone in her hand. "Well, looks like Dad's going on the hunt by himself, tonight."

"Seriously?!" Sami exclaimed, hope in her voice.

Dee tossed the phone on the table and undid her ponytail. "Yep. Said he has all the info he needs, and the spirit is an easy mark. We're on our own tonight." She kept her eyes on the table a second before looking up, a half smile on her lips. "So I'm thinking….shopping and slumber party?"

I remember the nights when Dad hunted solo, leaving Dean in charge of teenage Sam and me. They usually consisted of Sam happily studying, and Dean happily lounging. There were almost never activities where the three of us played together. By then, Sam was always balls deep in school, and Dean was balls deep in whatever girl caught his fancy. So it never occurred to me that Sam would exclaim, "Yes!" And then hug Dee, jumping up and down making squealing noises.

Holy fuck!

Dee grinned and winked at me. "Okay - get cleaned up. I'll check the bus schedule and our money situation."

Sami practically skipped out of the kitchen, leaving me blinking with my mouth open. Dee chuckled. "I guess I've still got it. Go on, Squirt. It's not often we get a day off."

**xxxxx**

As I stepped out of the shower, I heard Sami's voice - insistent and mad. _Goddammit_ - I thought we were having a day off?

I walked into the living room, and saw Sami pointing at a map taped to the wall. She was holding papers, which flapped around as she waved her hands in the air.

"Look at that pattern, Dee! I'm telling you - something's not right."

"I hear you, Sami, but Dad checked it out!"

Sami thrust the papers in Dee's face. "Yeah, I know how he checks things out - as thoroughly as you do."

Dee crossed her arms and huffed back. "Oh? Well, if you weren't such a bitch about hunting all the fucking time, maybe your thoroughness would be useful."

Oh, shit.

"Hold it! What's going on?" I walked up to them, snatching the papers out of Sami's hands. They were hunting notes, all in Dad's handwriting.

Dee opened her mouth, but Sami cut her off. "I'll tell you what's going on. Instead of putting his notes in his journal and bringing them with him, he scrawled some shit on scrap paper and left it here. Furthermore," _Furthermore?_ "I think he's hunting the wrong thing. Look at the map. He plotted out the attack points, right? And it looks like the spirit is just randomly popping up within this area. But if you look again - "

"It's in a circle," I cut in. "Well, two circles, really." I traced the X's on the map, scanning the area, which was a forest preserve. I hate hunting in those.

"_Waitwaitwait_ - two circles?" Dee squinted at the map, her head tilted to the side.

Sami bitchfaced her. "So if _she_ sees it, it's legit?"

"Not now, Sam," I chastised absently, still staring at the map. The pattern looked familiar, I just couldn't place it.

"Where would you have seen this? We've never had an attack pattern like this," Dee said sharply.

Apparently, I think out loud.

Glossing over my blunder, I stammered, "In a book somewhere. Look - that's not important. What _is_ important, is that I think Sam's right. Regular spirits attacking people would attack where there's people - not in specific spots, and not in an open area like this." Frowning, I looked back at Dad's notes. Wailing noises, mostly night attacks, intense fear from nearby people, making them run away.

Then it came to me. "Yeth hound…it's not a spirit - Dad's hunting a yeth hound."

We hunted one back when I was about fourteen. Dad thought it was a regular spirit, too, until Sam found the weird attack pattern, and was able to put it together with Bobby's help.

"What the fuck is a yeth hound?" Dee's face was scrunched up, but I could see her moving towards a duffel bag in the corner.

"The lore places them back to Devonshire." Jesus, I sound like Sam. "They're often confused with the spirits of humans, because they are, in a way, spirits themselves, except that yeth hounds can fly, incite massive fear in victims, and they like to prowl in patterns, just like this one. If that's what this is, burning bones isn't going to cut it, because there aren't any bones to burn. We need iron rounds." I took a deep breath. "And they tend to hang out with night hags."

"Goddammit! I hate witches!" Dee exclaimed, slamming the bag onto the table and angrily unzipping it."

"Dee...we gotta do something. We can't...I mean…" Sami's face paled as fear topped her frustration with Dad's careless research.

"I know, Sam." Dee sighed and leaned against the table. "Slumber party's cancelled. We're going hunting."

**xxxxx**

Thankfully, Sami and Dee were too absorbed in rescue prepping to notice that I had no fucking clue where the weapons were, let alone which clothes were mine. Sami was tossing stuff at me in the bedroom, completely focused on getting the hell out of the apartment as fast as possible.

"And wear your heavy boots - we don't know what we're running into."

I nodded, taking the footwear from her and shoving my feet inside them. There wasn't much for me to say - we had to hurry, and this really wasn't the time to appear as if I didn't belong.

Once we were all ready to go, one small barrier stood in our way.

"Okay...we need to get a car, and this won't be easy." Dee peeked through the curtains, grimacing at the flock of children playing soccer next to the parking lot, while their parents looked on.

Sami and I joined her at the window, eyes scanning the area for a solution.

There wasn't one.

Dee sighed and let the curtain fall back into place. "Well, time to go for a little walk. I'm sure we'll find one on the next block."

We each hefted a bag and left the apartment. Sami had a folder with Dad's notes and the map tucked under one arm. It didn't take long to spot it - one of those crossover vehicles, parked around the corner from the park, under a couple trees. Everyone's stroll instantly became casual, as Dee surreptitiously pulled tools out of her bag.

Within a few minutes, we we speeding down the street, the map spread open on Sami's knees and Dee checking her hair in the rear view mirror. Sami clicked a pen against her chin. "Dad marked a few spots within the circular pattern...I'm wondering if those were possible grave sites, since he thinks he's burning bones."

I leaned against her seat, looking over her shoulder. "What if...and it's a big what if...we're dealing with two things? Dad can be sloppy with research, yeah, but he's not _that_ sloppy. Maybe the evidence he found _was_ for a regular spirit."

Dee glanced over. "So he stopped looking, thinking that he solved it."

I shrugged, sharing a thoughtful look with Sami. "Maybe?" She asked, staring out the window. "Hard to say. We won't really know until we get there. And if these hounds partner with hags, the sites may have something to do with them instead of a restless spirit."

Nodding, I slumped back in my seat and watched the scenery blur past. Funny how it took nine jumps for me to actually go on a hunt. I hope I'm here long enough to help Dad. Yeth's are nasty assholes - ours almost sliced through Dean before Dad was able to fire three rounds into its head.

Throughout the ride, Sami kept trying to reach Dad, and every time the call went to voicemail, she growled, slamming the phone shut.

Without saying a word, Dee reached over and took Sami's hand in hers. I waited for the snippy response coupled with Sami snatching her hand away. Instead, she gripped back, tossing Dee a shaky smile.

It took another twenty minutes to reach the preserve. There were ten different parking lots, all located around the edge of the park. There were three close to Dad's scribbling, so Dee drove as fast as she could (given the massively reduced speed limit on park grounds) to each of them, trying to find the Impala.

Naturally, it was at the third lot.

We were the only two cars there, so the chances of running into other people were slim. This made raiding the Impala's weapon trunk much easier. Funny how this Dad keeps his shit in the same places as my dad.

I slung a duffle strap around my neck so it hung across my body. Nodding at the map as I primed my gun, now loaded with iron rounds, I asked Sami, "Okay, which way?"

Mouth cinched to the side, Sami studied the map a second before looking up and around the lot. Finally she pointed to a small path, off to our left. "That way."

Dee hefted another bag on her shoulder, her mouth set and eyes hard. "Let's get Dad."

And off we went.

Even easy hunts need concentration and care, because one small slip could mean big trouble. This hunt was definitely not easy, and Dad's life was in the balance. Luckily it was daytime, and the hound's strength was greatly diminished. Those things hated sunlight, but if threatened, they'd attack, and a hunter tromping around their haunting grounds with salt and fire would definitely be motivation to brave the light.

I tried to imagine what we looked like. Three girls, loaded with weapons and ready to kill anything between them and their father. It sounded like a goofy movie - like Charlie's Angels or something. Maybe we could move in slow-motion for more effect.

The path was wide and clear, making walking very easy. My gun waited in my pocket, not in case we happened upon other hikers. No one spoke, instead listening to every sound in the forest, trying to pinpoint Dad's location.

Several minutes went by before we heard it - a soft scraping noise - like a shovel in dirt. We stopped and shared a look. Dee muttered, "Yahtzee…"

She led us off the path and toward the noise, which continued in a slow rhythm. Not wanting to scare a seasoned hunter armed to the hilt, Sami made a trilling noise, which sounded very similar to the one my Sam makes. The scraping noise stopped, and an answering trill filled the air.

We jogged over, and found Dad standing over a hole, covered in dirt and sweat. A mixture of emotions flitted across his face, ranging from relieved to irritated. "What're you doing here? I kinda gave you the night off." He stabbed the shovel into the ground and leaned against it, his eyes flickering to Sami before landing back on Dee, waiting for an answer.

Dee squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "We think you're hunting a yeth hound instead of just a regular old spirit."

Dad's eyebrows shot up. Dee gave me a look that said _Well?_

I stepped forward, unwrapping my bag from around my neck as I spoke. "It's the attack pattern. instead of one large area with random hit points, there are really two circles, like - "

"A haunting path," Dad finished for me, his expression thoughtful for a moment. To my surprise, he turned to Sami. "You think so, too?"

She nodded. "Yeah - the patterns just don't add up to one spirit. And Kate said yeth's have a fear effect, which matches some of the survivor stories."

Dad wiped his brow and swore under his breath. "If it's a yeth, we need - "

I finished for him this time. "Iron rounds. We packed 'em."

He nodded slowly, looking at each of us in turn. Then he smiled. "Well, then. I guess I'll need your help afterall."

I watched Dee swell with pride, basking in Dad's praise. I saw Sami's hint of a smile, more relieved that he was okay than wanting his words.

I also saw a pair of glowing eyes from between the trees, right behind them.

"Get down!" I yelled, pulling my gun. The three hit the ground, the hound sailed through the air (_riiiight_ - they can fly…), so I fired.

Its ghostly yelp echoed through the air right before it hit me full in the chest, and I blacked out.

**xxxxx**

When I woke, someone's tongue was in my mouth.

No, seriously, one second I'm being slammed to the ground by a yeth hound, the next I'm being Frenched.

It was now my turn to yelp, noting with disgust that the high pitched squeally sound meant I was once again, a preteen.

Fantastic.

"Settle down, love. Surely you can appreciate my wanting to savor the moment. Those chaste pecks on the lips are so...routine. And this moment was hardly routine. Wouldn't you say?"

I knew that voice. I knew the person attached to that voice. I swallowed hard and took a step back, carefully opening my eyes.

There he was. Full of himself and wearing that fucking smile that screamed, "Hey asshole, you're completely and utterly fucked."

He dramatically plucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed the corners of his mouth. "Now. It will take me a bit to fetch her. There's a little...red tape...when it comes to transactions involving heaven. But never fear, Crowley always delivers."

My mouth went dry, and my stomach churned uncomfortably.

"And as promised, no tricks. You have my word as a professional." He casually tucked the cloth back into its pocket and watched me with amusement. "Well. It's been lovely meeting you." He leaned close, whispering in my ear. "See you in a year."

**XXXXxxxx TBC xxxxXXXX**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

When I woke, someone's tongue was in my mouth.

No, seriously, one second I'm being slammed to the ground by a yeth hound, the next I'm being Frenched.

It was now my turn to yelp, noting with disgust that the high pitched squeally sound meant I was once again, a preteen.

Fantastic.

"Settle down, love. Surely you can appreciate my wanting to savor the moment. Those chaste pecks on the lips are so...routine. And this moment was hardly routine. Wouldn't you say?"

I knew that voice. I knew the person attached to that voice. I swallowed hard and took a step back, carefully opening my eyes.

There he was. Full of himself and wearing that fucking smile that screamed, "Hey asshole, you're completely and utterly fucked."

He dramatically plucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed the corners of his mouth. "Now. It will take me a bit to fetch her. There's a little...red tape...when it comes to transactions involving heaven. But never fear, Crowley always delivers."

My mouth went dry, and my stomach churned uncomfortably.

"And as promised, no tricks. You have my word as a professional." He casually tucked the cloth back into its pocket and watched me with amusement. "Well. It's been lovely meeting you." He leaned close, whispering in my ear. "See you in a year."

**XXXXX**

_**Eleven years ago, in Kate's reality…**_

"Come on...come on…_Goddammit_, where is it?" Impatiently, I paced the intersection, anxious to get this over with, and anxious that I'd get caught before it could even happen.

And maybe I was just anxious about being here at all, but let's not go there.

I squinted down the road, trying to distinguish between the shadows and shadowy objects that stood just beyond the feeble glow of the streetlight.

"Well, _hello_ there."

I spun around and found myself not five feet away from a very average looking demon. He wasn't particularly attractive; I mean, he was kinda old, but he _did_ have an aura of confidence swirling about him. Maybe it was the British accent, or maybe it was just because he was a fucking demon facing down a gangly twelve-year-old girl in a deserted crossroad.

Whatever. Confidence or the fact that he was obviously a pompous dick, I didn't care.

I came to make a deal.

I folded my arms in front of my chest, and tried to channel Dean. "I want to make a deal."

The demon's eyebrows raised and his mouth twitched with amusement. "Oh, do you, now? I see. Do your overly emotional brothers know you're here? And how does Daddy Winchester feel about his baby girl making deals with Crossroads Demons?"

I almost chickened out at this point. I could handle my dad being pissed at me, but Dean and Sam? That would send me over the edge.

Which...considering what I was about to do...was really the least of my worries.

"Daddy Winchester isn't the one who summoned you. The deal is with me."

"I see…" I knew he wasn't taking me seriously. An unarmed, awkward pre-teen isn't exactly a serious player in the world of the Supernatural. But desperation was, and demons fed on that for breakfast. Besides, being a Winchester, I knew I'd get his attention.

Being the _baby _Winchester was a whole other story.

"And what deal would that be, hmmm? You want Daddy to be more loving? Brother Dean to like better music? Sister Sam to just...lay off the fucking whining?" He used this haughty tone, like he was trying to show off how much he knew of my family.

Not impressive. I knew demons read minds, so I wasn't wowed by his supposed knowledge.

I stiffened, and jutted out my chin. "I want to exchange my life for Mary Winchester's."

_That_ stopped him. _Don't know everything, do you?_

"Well, well, well." He began a lazy swagger, tracing a slow circle around me. I knew he was trying to disorient me, make me spin around to follow him, and possibly get distracted so I'd mess up the terms of the deal.

_Not gonna happen, asshole. I know the terms I want._

He toyed with the cufflinks of his tailored suit as he strolled, eyeing me up and down. "That was unexpected." He stopped behind me and leaned close. "I _love_ the unexpected. Makes my parts tingle." He straightened and continued walking. "So. Why?"

"None of your fucking business. Do we have a deal, or not?"

"Oh, hold on, missy." I almost growled at his words - only Bobby gets to call me that. "There's no need to be rude. I would be a very poor role model for the demon youth of today, if I didn't _at_ _least_ get a reason for _why_ you're willing to accept eternity in Hell so a dead woman can replace you in the family you claim to love so much."

I ground my teeth.

He stopped right in front of me, and stared intently into my eyes. All signs of amusement now gone. "So I'll ask again. _Why_?"

This time, my resolve to stay strong and keep my reasons to myself, faltered. This demon was intimidating, despite my efforts to mimic my father and brother.

I thought of Sam, coming down with what will be a nasty cold, while severely stressing out over some test he had to take at school in two days. He was shutting me out _and_ wanting me to take care of him, his mood changing every five minutes.

I thought of Dean, laid up in bed, twenty stitches in his side from fighting a werewolf. A fever from the wound told us it was infected, but we couldn't take him to a clinic, so Dad was treating it with really old antibiotics and Tylenol. He refused to let anyone be remotely caring towards him - insisting that his flesh wound was just going through an "awkward stage". But when his fever spiked at three this morning, and he was moaning for his mom, I kept cool towels on his face and pretended to be her, just to calm him down.

Then I thought of Dad, who, tonight, went through a six-pack and several shots of whiskey in an attempt to _forget _what he was doing to his sons, while simultaneously _reliving _why he did this shit in the _first _place. There was _nothing _I could do for Dad, except try to take care of my brothers so he could suffer quietly on his own.

I couldn't fix them. I couldn't make anything better. I felt helpless and useless and pointless.

My lower lip trembled a bit, but I squared my shoulders and met the demon's eyes. "I have my reasons."

"Hmmm…" Right then, I knew, that he knew, everything I was thinking. He read my thoughts. He felt my desperation. He knew I was an easy sale.

I took a deep breath. "So? Do we have a deal or not?"

He looked like he was considering my words. In a soft tone, he asked, "Do you even know what you're signing up for? Do you _really _understand what you're doing?"

Okay..._that_ stopped _me_.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I asked, "Why do you care?"

He shrugged and resumed his lazy stroll around me. "I have my reasons," he replied cheekily.

We stared at each other, until he finally stopped pacing and casually put his hands in his pockets. He sighed dramatically. "No deal."

I blinked at him. "Wh - what?"

"I know - I'm as disappointed as you are. But that's the way it is. No deal."

"But...why? I thought you demons wanted souls - I'm willing to give you mine, for an easy price…"

He shrugged again. "I'm sorry, love. It's just not your time to make a deal like this. As much as I'd love, and I mean this sincerely, _love_, to plant one on your lips and call us square, I can't. So you'll have to return to your posh motel and grunt it out on your own."

I stood rooted to the spot. I was so sure..._so sure_...that I had the solution. I had figured out how to make them happy, and this sonofabitch wasn't going to let it happen.

Afraid I would start crying right in front of him, I turned on my heels and walked away.

**xxxxx**

_**Now…**_

With a quick snap of his fingers, Crowley disappeared, leaving me in a deserted crossroads, with only a year left to live.

Oh, shit. _Ohshitohshitohshitohshit._

He gave me the deal. He gave me the deal I wanted, I must have sweetened the pot by making it one year instead of ten, and now I'm back again in this moment, knowing with clarity, that Mary wasn't needed to make things better.

I would do okay.

But now, I wouldn't get that chance.

_She_ wouldn't get that chance.

_Ohshitohshitohshit._

I scrubbed my hands over my face and began the trek back to the motel/apartment building. How the fuck was I going to explain this to Dad?

Guess I didn't think that far ahead last time.

Then again, I guess I didn't have to.

In my mind, I pictured what I was walking back to. I knew Dad was passed out drunk on the couch, a bottle of Jack cradled to his chest like a life preserver. Dean was feverish and in bed, about ready for another dose of pills and a serious bandage change. Sam was asleep in my bed, face first in his history book, drooling on page one hundred forty-five.

I reached the next block and turned the corner, thankful for the familiar neon sign blinking in the distance. The air was crisp and clean, sending goosebumps up and down my arm, so I hugged myself for warmth. There were scattered puddles on the road from a week's worth of rain, and for a second, I felt like stomping in them, just to do it.

Now that I'm faced with the reality of Hell, I needed a way to explain the level of desperation that led me to make a crossroads deal. It never occurred to me that a twelve-year-old was slightly limited in what can be done to positively impact a family situation like ours. That maybe, just maybe, some things needed to be worked out on their own, and eventually, relationships would form, situations would improve.

I'd only been hunting with them for about two years, and at this age, the gap between Dean and I was like a yawning chasm. What eighteen-year-old wants his twelve-year-old sister as a friend? And what fourteen-year-old wants his twelve-year-old sister as a mother?

Crowley said he needed some time to get Mary, but I had no idea how long he'd need.

What if she was already there?

That thought encouraged a quicker pace, which soon morphed into a jog. When I reached the door, I hesitated, key in hand, wondering yet again how I was going to explain all this to Dad. From inside, I heard something thud to the floor.

I guess the Jack wasn't the best teddybear after all.

Sighing, I fit the key in the lock, and went inside, locking and warding the door behind me. I took a moment to look around, taking in the true shittiness of this place compared to Bobby's. I gently placed the key back in the cup on the counter, and went to the living room.

At least this time, I knew my way around.

Sure enough, there was Dad, sprawled on the couch with one arm hanging off the edge. He was half under a blanket, with the now empty bottle of booze laying on the floor, just out of his reach. Shaking my head, I picked it up and arranged the blanket over his entire body, smiling a little at how he burrowed under it, smacking his lips and rolling onto his side.

After setting the bottle in the garbage, I grabbed the med kit and went to Dean, all the while reliving this part of my life.

That year was a rough patch for us. Money was really tight, and _still_ Dad had a hard time choosing between getting a real job for a while and hunting for free. Recognizing that the need to eat was stronger than burning bones for someone else, Dean picked up part-time work when he could, in addition to hunting with Dad. He somehow managed to graduate high school that past spring, and was trying to enjoy being eighteen.

Which, as it turns out, wasn't that enjoyable.

The apartment had only two bedrooms, and it smelled terrible. Normally, Dad took a room and the three of us shared one. For some reason, Dad preferred to sleep on this ratty couch, so the boys had one room, and I the other. Which really turned into Dean in Dad's room, and Sam sharing mine.

I slowly opened Dean's bedroom door. He was in the exact same position I remembered - on his back, hand protectively over his side. Sweat glistened on his face, and he shivered when I felt his forehead, which was still quite warm. I opened the kit, and pulled out the pills. The fucking medicine was so old...but it was all we had.

I shook out two antibiotics, three Tylenol, and got a fresh glass of water. Sitting next to him, I ran my fingers through his hair and down his cheek. "Dean? Hey...you need to take some medicine, okay? Can you wake up for me?"

He grunted and rubbed his eyes. Jesus, he looked so young. One eye peeled open. "Hey…" He croaked. "What…?"

I smiled and held up the pills. "Time to take some meds."

He frowned, struggling with the news. Figuring I'd be helpful, I added, "You have a fever - remember? From the infection in your side?"

He held up one finger, blinking slowly, then nodded. He mumbled something, then motioned for the pills. Dutifully, I handed them over, wanting to slide in bed and let him lean against me for comfort.

But Dean wouldn't do that for another five years. By then, this Kate will be burning in Hell.

Once everything was swallowed, he batted my hands away and sort of rolled over, falling back asleep instantly. Rolling my eyes, I snuck a peek at his injury, noting that no blood had seeped through the bandages.

I smoothed the blankets over him and got another pass through his hair, eliciting a sigh rather than a scolding. Feeling bold, I planted a quick kiss on his forehead, making a face at the sweat that coated his skin and now coated my mouth.

Through the walls, I heard Sam moving around. Reluctantly, I left Dean in search of the drama that awaited me. The way Sam had been acting, you'd think he was possessed. One minute he was fine, the next he was a bitch. I couldn't keep up with his mood swings. The stress from his freshman year, coupled with Dad's training demands and the change in weather were taking their toll on him. He'd been sneezing for a couple days, and just felt run down. I remember him getting so sick, he had to miss three days of school, which to Sam, was a death sentence.

Dad wouldn't let me stay home with him, instead benching Dean to "babysit". Dean didn't mind taking care of Sam, but Sam minded being home, so their relationship deteriorated into cinders by the time I got home from school the first day.

It was weird running through these memories. This was eleven years ago, and with all the time shifting I've been doing, it felt like a million.

I got to my room just in time to watch a restless Sam try to pull his face off a huge book. Chuckling, I helped peel the paper off his cheek (yup - page one-forty-five), closing the book and placing it on the dresser. He actually started to protest, but I was ready for him.

"Shut up, Sam. You need some sleep, and three more words isn't going to make a difference."

He shot me a bleary glare, which may have been intimidating, if it wasn't immediately followed by him sneezing into the blanket.

"Yeah, you're done. Come on...get under the blanket for real." I started straightening the covers, pointedly ignoring his attempts to argue.

"No...Kate, I gotta...gotta - " Sneeze three. "_Ugh_...I gotta finish that chapter." Punctuate the whining with eye rubbing and a yawn, and presto - you have one teenager who is definitely going to bed.

"No gotta read nothing, Sam. Go to sleep. The book'll still be here in the morning." And hey, maybe your mom will be here, too. So much to look forward to.

He huffed through his congested nose, but made his long, awkward limbs comply and tuck under the blanket, shivering the whole time. These blankets were worn thin, definitely not providing enough warmth for someone about to catch walking pneumonia. I missed the thick ones at Bobby's.

He scooted over and lay down, his brow furrowing as he rubbed it. "Head hurts…"

I felt his forehead - a little warm. Nothing like what it will be. He pressed his head against my hand, prompting me to run my fingers through his hair. "I'll grab some Tylenol, okay? I'll be right back." He nodded and pulled the blanket up to his neck, settling on my pillow.

I grabbed the bottle from Dean's room, and headed back. He gratefully took two, commenting, in between sneezing, that he'd probably only nap a couple hours before getting up to finish his work.

Sure. Whatever makes you feel better, Sam.

Out loud, I said nothing, knowing that he'd sleep through the night, and wake up pissy because I didn't him finish that chapter.

He tossed and turned while I quickly changed into some sweats. I was about to leave and check outside for, you know, dead mothers returning to life, when Sam gave me one of those looks...with The Eyes. "It's cold…," he mumbled, pathetically sniffling and curling into a ball, eyes still focused on me.

_Goddammit…_

I sat facing him, wanting nothing more than to sit with him, like I did the last time. But Mary was coming. "I need to do a couple things. Try to sleep, and I'll be back soon, okay?"

He huffed, grabbing my sleeve and tugging me towards him. We stared at each other a moment, and I realized...sick he may be, but he was conscious, and maybe I should tell him what I..._she_...did.

"Sam…" I started.

He rolled his eyes. and let his hand drop to the bed. "Nevermind. Just...go do whatever you need to do. I'm fine." He rolled onto his side away from me, pulling the blanket over his face.

Oh.

Well.

Fine.

Sighing, I headed back to the front room, peeking through the curtains for any signs of Mary. Dad snored softly on the couch, and occasionally a cough or groan could be heard.

But no Mary.

**xxxxx**

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, someone was retching in the bathroom, and sunlight was streaming through the curtains. I was still sitting in a chair by one of the windows, my back stiff and my neck sore. A quick look around the room revealed no Mary, but an empty couch, so I stretched and made my way to the bathroom, where Dad was currently...indisposed.

He glanced up at me before heaving yet again, weakly trying to wave me away.

Sorry, Dad. Not really twelve and I know what to do, here, having done it a hundred times before. I wet a cloth and gently laid it across the back of his neck. Instantly, he settled down, resting his head against his arm. "Hold on - I'll get some water."

I didn't wait for an answer, instead jogging to the kitchen and filling a mostly clean glass with mostly clear water. Dad hadn't moved, and the washcloth was still on his neck.

"Here…" I held out the glass, only to have a hand flapped at me. "At least rinse with it." Pause in hand flapping, then he took it.

There was a sip, a swish, and a spit, followed by actual swallowing. Shaky hands passed the glass back to me, and Dad slowly leaned back against the tub, holding the wash cloth in place. I set the glass down, and wet another one. Crouching in front of him, I dabbed at his face, making sure to apply the cold water to his temples and cheeks. His eyes fluttered closed, as he took deep steadying breaths, letting me take care of him.

The puking didn't happen in my life, so this was something new. I was also never this forward in offering help, so this could get interesting. More interesting.

"Better?" I asked.

He nodded, swallowed hard and gesturing for the glass again. Once the water sipping was done, I helped him back to the couch, frowning at the warmth coming off his skin.

"Hey...sit here a sec. I want a temp on you."

Dad grunted as he melted into the corner of the couch. "I'm fine," he ground out through clenched teeth, pulling the tattered blanket over his trembling body.

I scoffed, "Yeah, that's anything but fine. Wait here."

Before he could order me to stand down, I grabbed the med kit from Dean's room and fished out the thermometer. Christ, I hated these glass pieces of shit.

Waving it in front of Dad's face, I sang, "Open uuuuup!"

He considered arguing, but the power of the Open Up song won him over. His mouth twitched, then opened. I deftly stuck the glass rod in his mouth and sat next to him, eyeing the clock for the three minute mark. Dad leaned back, eyes trained on me. I was acting different - more like the me I am now, than the me I was then.

He knew something was up.

I tucked my legs under me and sighed. "Once I get this number, we need to talk."

Up went the eyebrows.

_You have no idea._

He nodded at the bedrooms.

"I know - I'll check on them in a minute. We...need to talk first."

The eyebrows pushed higher, and I simultaneously wanted those three minutes to last forever, and hurry the fuck up.

To help pass the time, I fussed with his blanket. My face must have given everything away, because Dad took my hand in his, pulling gently. I lay against him, relishing his arms around me, making that impenetrable John Winchester cocoon that even to this day, I crave from time to time.

At the three minute mark, Dad nudged me and removed the thermometer. We read it together. "Ninety-nine-eight. Looks like you caught Sam's bug."

Dad sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. "It'll be fine. We're holing up here until Dean's back on his feet, so we'll be good when it's time to go."

I nodded, fiddling with the thermometer, looking anywhere but at him.

He shifted a little and cleared his throat, gently prying the thermometer from my hands. "So. What's up?"

There wasn't a good way to say it. I didn't know how much time I had before Mary showed up. The boys were still asleep. If I could do one thing for this Kate, it was break the news to them.

I took a deep breath and just...spit it out. "I went out last night, after you fell asleep."

Dad sat up, the blanket falling to his lap. "You..._what?_"

I stood and began pacing, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah, I've been…_*sigh*_ Look, there's no good way to say this, so…" I paused and looked him straight in the eye. "I made a deal with a crossroads demon, trading my soul for Mary's. She should be here any minute."

I've seen Dad speechless a few times in my life. One was when Sam announced his Stanford plans. Another when Dean decided he wanted to marry Cassie and settle down. A third was when we learned of Adam.

This speechless was more..._speechless-y_...than anything else. His mouth moved, strangled sputters came out, and his hands flew to his hair.

I held up my own hands in an effort to make him listen. Listen to what, I dunno, because this bombshell would make Stanford look like a picnic. I needed to act like twelve-year-old me, not twenty-three-year-old me. So I poured out all the upset from my tween years to this Dad.

"Listen to me. Look _around_ you. Look _at_ _you_. We...we can't keep living like this. You're drinking yourself into an early grave because you're so...sad and angry all the time. Dean's got an infection _from a werewolf_, which is fucked up to begin with, and the only thing he wants is his mom. And Sam...I can't even keep up with him. He needs someone who can care for him and give him that balance he needs."

I couldn't describe the look on Dad's face. The mix of emotions was too much. Let's just say that he was..._upset_.

"Everyone _wants_ her. Everyone needs..._her_. I just...I figured that if she were here, you would all be okay. That all this," I made a sweeping motion with my arms around the room, "would get taken care of." I sat next to him. "I thought...no revenge means no...this."

As I said the words, I knew it wasn't true. It was something I could never have known at that age. But it's what drove me to that intersection, without even considering Bobby. Tears slid down my face.

Dad pushed himself off the couch and took over the pacing. He still hadn't said anything. but I knew he wanted to.

"What's going on?" We both jumped at Dean's words, low and raspy, like we got caught doing something we weren't supposed to be doing. He still looked pale, but he was definitely coherent, eyes locked on us as he carefully made his way across the room and into a chair.

"Your sister…" That's as far as he got. Dad choked on the words, and just settled for turning away, hands on his hips.

"My sister...what?" Dean looked from my tear-stained face to Dad's rigid back. "Seriously, what the fuck's going on?"

In a flat tone, I answered, "Made a deal with a demon last night."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, right." He looked to Dad for the punchline, but none came. The smile slid from his face. "Wait...you..._what?_" He turned back to me, eyes narrowed and assessing for any sign of bullshit.

I couldn't answer him. I did maintain eye contact, but said nothing. Dad spoke instead. "She traded her life for your mom's." He looked over his shoulder at me. "How long?"

I swallowed. "One year."

Dean's eyes ping-ponged between Dad and me, the remaining color draining from his face. "What the fuck? Why would you do that?"

Dad pressed his lips together, scrubbing both hands over his face. "Doesn't matter. We're undoing this deal."

"Dad…" I started.

He whipped around and pointed his finger at me. "Don't you _Dad_ me. I don't even…" He shook his head and held up his hands. "No. We're not discussing this. Not now. I can't...not now. Does Bobby know?"

I shook my head, wiping my eyes as more tears escaped down my cheeks.

"He will in a minute. Pack your stuff. We're going to Sioux Falls to figure this out."

No one moved.

"_Now!_"

Dean and I jumped, nodding our heads. Dad fumbled in a jacket for his phone, angrily dialing Bobby's number as he walked outside. "Bobby? You won't _fucking_ believe what just happened." The door slammed behind him, leaving Dean and I alone in the living room.

"_Kate…_" he whispered, taking a step toward me.

I often wondered what would've happened if the deal was actually made. I remember being so pissed and disappointed when Crowley rejected my offer, because I couldn't even complete a demon deal right. How would I _really_ have felt if he accepted? I was more than willing to die for them - these four men (boys) that filled my life.

But this was beyond dying - this was an eternity of _Hell_.

Here's the thing, though. I'd gladly go to Hell for them. Okay, maybe not _gladly_, but I'd go. Willingly is probably a better word, right? I'd _willingly_ go. I knew it back then, and I knew it now. That's just how much I loved them.

"Listen to me...Dean..._please_. I love you, okay? But I'm only twelve, and I can't make anything better for you. Not now, at least, and watching this family train wreck itself is killing me. I made a decision, I stand behind it, for better or worse. _It's done_. Your mom's coming...I just don't know when or how. But she's coming. And maybe...maybe she can do what I can't."

Dean stood there, shaking his head, _Nonononono_, reaching out for me. I let him bring me close and hold me tight, remembering how it felt to be this small in Dean Winchester's arms. It wasn't quite like Dad's, but it was close.

"Jesus, Kate…" was all he said.

Behind him, Sam sneezed loudly, announcing his arrival into the mess. WIthout moving, Dean called out, "Go get packed, Sammy. We're going to Bobby's."

"What?! _No! _We can't go now! I have a major test in two days, and my math teacher said - "

"Sam!" Dean barked, cutting him off. "We...we have to go. You don't under- "

"Naturally, I don't understand. It's always something that you think I won't - "

I pulled away from Dean, giving Sam a sharp look, but speaking quietly. "Not now, Sam. I did something last night, and Dad wants to regroup to figure it out. This isn't about school, and he needs you to just put it aside for a minute. Okay? Please?"

I knew damn well I never spoke like that to Sam when we were kids, so it really stopped him. I could see the gears turning as he looked from Dean's anguished face to mine, still wet with tears. "What happened?" He whispered, but the words rang loudly in my head.

Dean and I exchanged a look, and I opened my mouth to explain this a third time, when the door opened, and in they walked.

Mary looked pretty much like she did in the other realities I visited. How bizarre that was. She was younger, though, which was probably how she looked when she died. Dad had this shocked look on his face, and I chalked this up to the fifth speechless moment in his life.

"Dean?" She whispered, her eyes raking over him like she couldn't believe how much he'd grown. Well, it _had_ been fourteen years.

"_Mom?_" He whispered, voice trembling to match the whole body shiver that ran through him.

"Mom?!" Sam exclaimed, stepping into the living room and staring, wide-eyed at her. "What the..._Dad?_ What's…"

His voice trailed off as Dean crossed the room in a few steps, crushing his mom to him, and crying like a lost little boy who finally found his way home. Dad was crying as well, watching the embrace with one hand covering his mouth, the other across his stomach. Mary pulled away, holding Dean at arm's length, and checking him over. "You have a fever," was all she said, but the words made Dean laugh and hug her again.

I knew right then, it was worth it. It was worth it, to see this, and to know it was real.

Sam spun me around to face him. "Did you do this? Did you do something to bring her back?"

I nodded, managing a small, sad smile.

The look on Sam's face was thunderous. "You - "

"Sammy? Is that really you?" Mary called out, and I wanted to kiss her myself for interrupting _that_ lecture.

His head whipped around at her voice, speaking directly to him, and not in a dream. This woman he never knew, was the sole reason his life was in the crapper. Her death started a chain of events that led us to this very moment. I wasn't with Sam when he was really little, but Dean told me stories of how hard it was getting Sam to accept her absence, when all the other kids had moms and homes and normal things.

"Uhm...hey..._Mom?_" That's my Stanford-bound eloquent brother.

"Oh my God, look at you. So handsome, and _shit_...tall!" She laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. "I can't believe it!"

"That makes two of us," he stammered, making her laugh harder as she hugged him.

I stepped back, risking a peek at Dad. He was enjoying the reunion - I could see it. It looked like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, making breathing and living a lot easier.

Then he caught my eye. And the haunted look returned.

Shaking my head at him, I smiled, nodding at Mary. _This is good. It'll be okay._

The awkward moment came when Mary turned to me. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, holding up one hand in a feeble _Heyyyy_ gesture. I'd met Mary twice in this spell-shifting escapade. Each time, Kate was established in her life, and it was just _me_ who had to adjust to what was (that) reality.

This here? This was the initial meeting, and I found myself facing a myriad of emotions I didn't expect. I wanted this - right? I traded my soul for this. Right? Because I couldn't do what I knew (or felt) she could.

_Right?_

So why did I feel threatened, like she was taking away the things I loved most? Why was I jealous? Why did I feel...regret?

At least those were _my_ feelings, and not _this_ Kate's. Maybe she'd feel differently. There was no way to know - my reactions were tainted with eleven more years with my family, and there wasn't a way to discount them.

Going for smooth, I said, "Hi...I'm...um...Kate. And...not really related to you at all, except maybe as a sort of step-daughter thing. But my mom's probably dead or something, and really not a winner anyway, so it's not like there's competition or anything with Dad, so." Everyone fell silent at the complete idiocracy of my words. Unable to stop, I kept going. "Yeah, and I'm super excited to meet you, finally, and it's...nice to have you here." _Even though it means I'm going to Hell._

Oh, my God. _What the fuck did I just say?_

Mary blinked, eyes full of amusement, and glanced at Dad before smiling at me. "It's nice to meet you, Kate. I guess I have you to thank for my being here, but…"

I shrugged. "It's complicated. I know. Everything usually is."

Again, silence. Even from Sam. Then Mary cupped my cheek in her hand, and gave me a hug. In my ear, she whispered, "We'll sort it out, okay? We will."

Swallowing hard, I hugged her back, and nodded.

**xxxxx**

Now understanding the need to head to Bobby's, Sam packed his shit without further comment. I'm assuming that Dean filled Sam in on why his mother suddenly returned from the dead, because Sam stopped asking what was going on. I returned to our bedroom after dumping a couple bags in the car, and found Sam sitting on the edge of our bed, hands clutching some Kleenex, eyes trained on the floor.

"Hey…you okay?" I walked over and felt his forehead, not really waiting for a response because the question was ridiculous. "I'll get you more Tylenol for that fever. It's a long ride to Bobby's, so you can just sleep in the car." I turned to go, when he grabbed my hand, pulling me down on the bed next to him.

"How can you act like nothing's going on?" His tone was accusatory, but there was no real heat in his words.

I brushed the hair off his face and gave him a half-smile. "Even with everything going on, you still have a fever, you still need some medicine, and you still need some rest. That doesn't change just because - "

"Just because you're going to Hell in a year." He dropped my hand and shook his head, eyes back on the floor.

"Sam…"

"_I can't lose you. _ How could you not know that?" He used the same broken tone when Jess died. "I don't..._I don't know her_. How could you think she's better than you?"

I sighed, clenching my jaw against the tears threatening to fall. Not wanting to argue, I rested my chin on his shoulder, and lightly scratched the back of his head. "Let's talk about it later, okay? Right now, let's get you medicine, finish packing, and get on the road. There's plenty of time to -"

Sam let out a derisive laugh. "Three hundred sixty-four days. Not a minute more." He stood and shouldered his bag, taking a couple steps away, before dropping the bag to the floor and engulfing me in a giant Sam-hug. "We'll get you out of it. Somehow. Dad and Bobby'll figure it out." He pressed his forehead to mine, then left the room.

After wiping my eyes dry for the hundredth time, I scooped up Bear and a novel I was reading and headed into the hallway. Dean was just coming out of his room, wincing as he pulled his shirt down. Mary's voice sounded behind him. "Get some Tylenol - the new stitches will hurt for a while."

He nodded, glancing at me with eyes full of guilt, before heading towards the kitchen.

Already she was making a difference.

_Wait_...how did she know how to stitch a wound?

I passed by his room just as she snapped the med kit closed. "Hey there...got everything?" She smiled at me, in that Mom way, and while the bile rose at the thought of leaving them, my heart warmed knowing she was there.

"Yeah, I think so." I waggled Bear at her. "This was the last of my stuff."

Mary nodded and hefted the kit. "Okay...I guess it's time to meet this Bobby."

Grinning, I followed her towards the kitchen. "You'll like him. He's basically a teddy bear in a baseball cap."

"Who can plug a Black Dog from a hundred feet away," Dean chimed in from his seat at the table. He looked like he just ran a mile, pale and sweating, face pinched with pain.

Mary's eyebrows rose. "Hundred feet? That's impressive. Your grandfather could only do seventy-eight."

Dad poked his head through the doorway. "Everyone ready?"

Okay, hold the train. Dean was apparently too out of it to process what I just heard.

_Mary knew about hunting._

Oh...oh, this keeps getting better. Did the Mary from my reality hunt, too? Was this just another deviation, or was I learning things my own father didn't know?

Mary caught me staring at her, eyes flickering to Dad real quick, knowing that she blundered. She gave me a small shake of her head, telling me we'd talk later. I didn't know if we would or not, but I nodded back and we all piled into the car.

Being the smallest, I sat in the middle, trying to give as much room to my grown and still growing brothers. I figured they'd prop themselves against the doors, and sleep the whole way there.

Instead, I became a human pillow for Sam, curled in a ball with his face in my neck, the occasional sneeze or sniffle muffled against my shoulder. Dean tried to stretch out as much as possible, his long legs entwined with mine, one hand twisted in my sleeve. Both passed out within minutes, succumbing to the effects of Tylenol.

Mary sat in the front with Dad, alternating between holding his hand and resting her head on his shoulder. Dad kept one hand near her at all times, like Dean did with me, probably afraid this was a really bad dream.

Welcome to my life.

Now that it was quiet, and there was some down time between emotional conversations, I had time to process how the fuck I was going to face Bobby.

I made this decision with only the Winchesters in mind. Bobby hadn't even entered the equation, and the guilt was starting to gnaw at my insides. Despite my attachment to my father, Bobby was..._Bobby was my dad._ He didn't get a trade out of my deal. He just got a loss.

Way to go, Kate.

I hunkered down, holding Sam close and running my thumb along Dean's arm. I began hoping like mad for another shift. This Kate shouldn't be missing a single minute with her family. The clock wasn't going to wait for her return.

**xxxxx**

I stayed awake almost the entire drive, listening to Dad and Mary's voices, although I couldn't make out the words over the Impala's engine. It was weird enough hearing Dad speak softly, and be answered by a female's voice...that wasn't mine.

My eyelids did start fluttering closed when we hit the South Dakota state line. I figured a nap would probably be a good idea, since dealing with Bobby was going to be draining. The engine's rumble, the Winchester lullaby, cajoled me into resting my head against Sam's and closing my eyes.

Dean stretched, his knee jabbing me in my side, sharp and painful. It caught me off guard, making me jump a little, and my head knocked against Sam's. The second time happened after I had _just_ fallen asleep, so the jolt back to consciousness left me a tad on the cranky side.

"Christ, Dean, knock it off!" I shoved at him, not remembering his stitches, until my hands latched onto something sticky and wet.

And..._furry…?_

My eyes snapped open, just as a gunshot rang out, killing the Black Dog that was mere inches from my face.

Cue the adrenaline rush.

"Kate? _Hey! _ Kate! You with me?"

I tore my eyes off the dog, and jumped again as adult Sam's face loomed in front of mine, worried and frantic, hands roaming and checking for injuries. "Goddammit, he got your side...Jesus, that's nasty. Okay...it'll take a while, but I can stitch it shut. How's your head? I swear I heard a crack when you hit the tree." Gentle hands prodded the back of my head, which was spinning uncontrollably, both from the scenery change and the pain.

"Sam…" I mumbled, struggling for control and trying to understand what just happened.

"You gonna hurl?"

Oooh, that was a definite possibility.

Which became more definite and less possible ten seconds later.

"Whoa...okay, hold on…" He held my head as I threw up all over the dead dog, thinking _Ha - that's what you get, bitch._

A bottle of water appeared at my lips, and I took a small sip, glad to rinse the taste out of my mouth. Sam pushed the hair off my face, and chuckled. "You called the dog, Dean. I'm so telling him when we visit tomorrow." He shook out a bandana and pressed it against my side. "C'mon - let's get back to the motel and patch you up. Can't let him see you like this."

Figuring the whack on my head would excuse stupid questions, I simply asked, "Where is he?"

Sam hoisted me up, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to keep me standing. "Studying engineering at Stanford - remember? Wait..._do_ you remember?" He moved in front of me, bending down to look into my eyes. "Fuck - we'll do a concussion check once you're in bed. Come on, Kat, wait in the Impala while I burn the dog."

**XXXXxxxx TBC xxxxXXXX**


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: I apologize for the delay in this update. I've been swamped at work, and this one just took a while to crank out. Also, thank you very much for the kind reviews. :)**_

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

"Christ, Dean, knock it off!" I shoved at him, not remembering his stitches, until my hands latched onto something sticky and wet.

And..._furry…?_

My eyes snapped open, just as a gunshot rang out, killing the Black Dog that was mere inches from my face.

Cue the adrenaline rush.

"Kate? _Hey! _ Kate! You with me?"

I tore my eyes off the dog, and jumped again as adult Sam's face loomed in front of mine, worried and frantic, hands roaming and checking for injuries. "Goddammit, he got your side...Jesus, that's nasty. Okay...it'll take a while, but I can stitch it shut. How's your head? I swear I heard a crack when you hit the tree." Gentle hands prodded the back of my head, which was spinning uncontrollably, both from the scenery change and the pain.

"Sam…" I mumbled, struggling for control and trying to understand what just happened.

"You gonna hurl?"

Oooh, that was a definite possibility.

Which became more definite and less possible ten seconds later.

"Whoa...okay, hold on…" He held my head as I threw up all over the dead dog, thinking _Ha - that's what you get, bitch._

A bottle of water appeared at my lips, and I took a small sip, glad to rinse the taste out of my mouth. Sam pushed the hair off my face, and chuckled. "You called the dog, Dean. I'm so telling him when we visit tomorrow." He shook out a bandana and pressed it against my side. "C'mon - let's get back to the motel and patch you up. Can't let him see you like this."

Figuring the whack on my head would excuse stupid questions, I simply asked, "Where is he?"

Sam hoisted me up, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to keep me standing. "Studying engineering at Stanford - remember? Wait..._do_ you remember?" He moved in front of me, bending down to look into my eyes. "Fuck - we'll do a concussion check once you're in bed. Come on, Kat, wait in the Impala while I burn the dog."

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

When a witch turned Dean into a four-year-old, I got clawed in the side. I remember Sam patching me up with duct tape and towels until Bobby was able to stitch me up. This was similar, and I wondered when my luck would run out and I'd finally get hit full in the chest.

It hurt like hell. Okay, I'm fairly certain that Hell actually hurts worse than this, and I thanked the stars I dodged _that _bullet.

But this still hurt. _A lot._

I was trying to focus past the pain and on the scenario around me, but it was _really _fucking hard. I wanted to pass out, but Sam wouldn't let me, afraid that I had a concussion. That meant I had to be awake for the stitches, which, in my opinion, was totally unfair. On the plus side, he did let me have some seriously yummy whiskey, and after the third shot, I couldn't tell when the needle went into my skin.

So I guess it _was_ totally fair.

As per Sam, he babbled the whole time, trying to distract me from the sewing and keep me awake. My mouth wouldn't work enough to explain that his voice was actually putting me to sleep, so I kept nodding instead.

"_Sooooo_," Sam likes to stretch vowels when he concentrates. "...he's expecting us tomorrow around lunch, _buuuuuuuut _I'm thinking we may need some extra time in the morning. I don't know how you're going to feel, so we may end up getting there around dinner, or the day after, which, I know, you'll protest once you're sober and coherent enough to do so, and he'll be a complete bitch if we're late, _buuuuuut_ if you're not conscious, we can't exactly have a nice visit, now can we?" There was a tug on my side, and I knew he was tying the knot, signalling the end of the arts and crafts project.

I squinted at him. "Done?"

He nodded, sighing and studying his work. "You're gonna hurt tomorrow, Kitkat."

I shrugged and swallowed, shifting in the bed a little. "S'ok. It hurts _now_. Gimme some pills, and it'll be fine."

Sam chuckled, packing up the supplies and heading to the bathroom. "Give it another half hour before you pass out, okay?"

Grunting, I flipped him off and closed my eyes anyway. Laughing harder, he washed his hands in the bathroom sink, grabbed some Tylenol and handed me three pills and a glass of water.

I whined at him. "Just Tylenol?"

"If you're alive in the morning, you can take the good stuff on the drive."

"Oh wow, something to look forward to. Thanks."

"My pleasure. Now be a good girl and swallow these."

Once everything went down, he turned off the lights.

Sam helped me change into sweats and a clean shirt before stitching me up, so I was already dressed for bed. It wasn't until I heard him shucking clothes that I realized _he_ needed to do the same. When the blankets lifted and he crawled in next to me, it occurred to me that while I heard clothes come _off_, I _didn't_ hear clothes go _on…_

So…

_Let me stress: I'm too fucked up to process this many pieces of information._

An arm snaked around my body, gently positioning me to lay against him, like one of those full-body pillows. A little more shuffling informed me that Sam was indeed wearing clothes, so there wasn't a need for panic.

_Hooray_ - one more thing off my mental plate.

Taking a deep breath of just _Sam_, I mumbled against his shirt. "If you wanted me awake another half hour, why're you making me comfortable?"

His laugh was deep and throaty, full of amusement. Not _quite_ like my Sam, who tended to taint the funny with drama. "Because as soon as I said it, I knew there was no way you'd make it, so might as well make you comfortable." His hands smoothed my hair, and it fell silent for a few beats. Then he murmured, "How're you doing? Really?"

_There's_ the worry I was missing. He seemed too upbeat. Sometimes it's hard to tell ManicSam from HappySam.

I snuggled close and answered honestly. "It really hurts. But I'll be fine. There's no concussion, I just feel really wiped out."

He ran his thumb along my arm and kissed my hair. "You really scared me. There was a lot of blood."

"Mmm...I'm dramatic like that."

We both chuckled, then lay in bed listening to the faucet drip in the bathroom. It'd been awhile since I had some good old fashioned Sam interaction. It wasn't _my_ Sam, but it was close. And right now, I'll take close.

"What're you thinkin'?" He was whispering, testing to see if I was asleep. I considered not answering, so I could enjoy passing out. But then it hit me - what if I wake up somewhere else?

Wanting to continue the conversation and avoid that possibility, I answered him. "Nothing, really. Just wondering how the visit will go tomorrow." I tried to keep it vague, hoping that Sam's natural chattiness would fill in the gaps.

I wasn't disappointed.

He snorted softly, adjusting his legs so they crossed at the ankles, his arm still wrapped around me. "Well, he's still psyched about all the job offers he's getting, which puts him in a good mood, so he probably won't bitch too much about us hunting...although those stitches in your side will threaten that. Um...he'll remind us how his graduate degrees are bumping up his potential salary, and then hint at how he could easily afford a nice house so we can live with him and leave hunting for good, like he did on the last visit. Let's see...I think you're right, and he's gonna propose to Cassie sometime soon, maybe before graduation in a few months, so he'll try to set us up with friends in hopes that we'll fall in love and leave hunting. And last but not least, we'll get a lecture or three about how Dad doesn't watch out for us enough, how he's worried, how he's trying to provide a stable home for us, and oh yes, how he wants us to leave hunting. Think I'm close?"

I couldn't help it - I laughed. Dean and I had almost the same conversation about Sam a couple times during Sam's senior year at Stanford. "He loves us," I said.

Sam laughed, too. "I know he does. It'll be a good visit. They always are. Last time we talked on the phone, he was really excited to see us."

I turned my head a little, trying to see his face. "You ever think about going to school?"

He laughed _really_ hard at that. "_Fuck_, no. There's no way I could sit through classes and yessir all those teachers. No can do." I got another kiss on the head, and he got serious. "Like I told you, after the shtriga attacked me when I was little...everything changed. Dad just...treated Dean differently. You could feel the disappointment all the time, and it just ate at him every day." He sighed. "And when he didn't shoot the shtriga, and Dad flipped out, he knew he had to find another path to take care of me. Then you came along," Ooh, extra squeeze. "...and it solidified his decision to work hard at school, and get us out. He didn't want us to deal with Dad the way he did."

I digested all this, noting that the pain in my side had eased up, making concentrating a lot easier. "And the shtriga had the opposite effect on you," I surmised.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I never wanted to be that vulnerable again. I never blamed Dean for not shooting it, and I never will. He was just a kid! But I knew that I had to train harder so I could keep _him_ safe. He fights just as good as us...but he hates doing it. You know he tends to hesitate, and I won't let his gentler side get him killed. I love him as is, and I want to protect him as best as I can."

Even though it wasn't really me he was talking to, I still had to chime in. "As best as _we_ can."

He smiled. "Yup_._ He's the big brother, but it's our job to take care of him."

"And he sees it as his job to take care of us by being stable."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. The closer graduation gets, the more hopeful he gets, and I'd almost rather not visit just so we didn't have to hear the speeches. But…"

"You miss him."

Another nod.

"I miss him, too. The visit'll be fine...and soon we'll get another hunt from Dad, and then we'll be outta there."

Another nod, followed by a sigh, and a hug.

Sam cleared his throat. "Okay...get some sleep. And be honest about how you feel in the morning. I'll know if you're lying."

I smiled. Oh yeah, I liked this reality. Reminded me of home.

I clung to that thought as I fell asleep.

**xxxxx**

I woke slowly, like I was floating to the surface of a pool after laying at the bottom for a while. I wondered where I was, until I stretched, and every stitch in my side pulled and shot a fire-hot jolt of pain up and down that side of my body.

It kind of killed the whole serene/floaty theme that was running through my head. Not to mention confirming where I was.

I clenched my jaw and curled into a ball, sucking in air between my teeth, making this ridiculous hissing noise as I tried to be quiet and not wake Sam.

"_Whoa_...easy, there..." I guess he was already awake. Strong hands brushed the hair out of my face and wiped tears off my cheek.

"Forgot about 'em…," was all I got out, in-between poor attempts to laugh it off.

Sam laughed softly. "Only you, Kitkat, only you."

He kept his hand in my hair until the pain receded, allowing me to breath normally. I nodded, and relaxed, taking stock of how I felt.

"How do you feel?" He asked, his eyes full of concern as they roamed all over my face, trying to determine if my answers were honest.

"Better...I just pulled at 'em - that's all." I flashed a smile at him. "I'm good, really." Letting out a slow breath, I sat up, with his help. "What time is it?"

Sam glanced at the clock on the night stand. "Only nine. We have time."

I had no idea if we _really_ had time, or what he really _meant_ by "having time" since I had no clue where we were or when Sam wanted to get to Palo Alto. _I wanted to see Dean_, and wasn't about to let stupid stitches get in the way. "Okay...lemme get dressed and we'll - "

"Yeah, right. _Slow down_. We'll get there sometime this afternoon; it's not a big deal. You're taking the good stuff today, so you'll want time for them to wear off before we get there...unless you wanna be stoned when you see him."

My head lolled back, and I gazed up at him. I didn't really get a good look at Sam last night - it was dark, I was getting clawed and sewed, and things were a bit busy. Since it was now quiet, I took a few seconds to study my brother.

His hair was long, down to his chin, and for the most part tucked behind his ears save for a few stray clumps. There was a small scar above his right eyebrow, and his nose looked like it'd been hit a couple times. Stubble lined his chin and cheeks, giving him a rough, masculine look that contrasted the innocent boy I remembered studying law.

I wondered if Dean would have that look, now.

_But his eyes_...his eyes were the same, filled with concern and affection, intelligence and determination. Always showing him assessing, processing, contemplating.

Don't get me wrong - I missed my Sam with every fiber in me. _But I liked this Sam_.

I smiled at him. "Not gonna be stoned - I'll be fine. I just wanna get on the road, okay?"

He rolled his eyes, but I knew he wasn't upset. "Okay. Just...take it easy." He lifted my shirt to inspect his work. "They're red, and swollen, and I know they're sore, so don't even lie about it." He let my shirt fall and ran his fingers through his hair, wincing a little with the movement. "He's gonna be so pissed when he sees them."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah? He'll be just as pissed that you wrenched your shoulder."

Oooh, there's GuiltySam. "What're you talking about?"

I snorted. "I dunno, Sam. Fluffing your locks shouldn't hurt, so I figure you did something and just didn't tell me." He tried to look impassive, but it wasn't working. "And I wouldn't be surprised if something else is hurting you, too." I flapped a hand at him, carefully swinging my legs onto the floor. "But I'll find out, because I always do. So you can take the hope that Dean focuses only on _my_ injuries and shove it up yer buttocks, because he'll be upset over both of us."

I got to my feet, blew Sam a kiss, and began hobbling to the bathroom...wondering all the while if he'd respond the way I thought he would, or if I totally miscalculated and he'd start throwing holy water at my face.

"Yeah? Well..._you_...were bleeding. So. _That_...trumps muscle things."

_Yes!_

"Muscle things? Really? You have those?" Chuckling gave way to pure laughter, to where Sam had to walk over and help me get the rest of the way to the bathroom. He gave me a kiss on the head then lightly shoved me inside.

"Get cleaned up, jerk. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."

"We'll leave after I check your shoulder, bitch. 'Kay? Love you!" Then I slammed the door, grinning at the sound of his giggling on the other side.

Showering was a delight. I was willing to endure the awkwardness of trying to keep the stitches dry while washing Essence of Black Dog off me. I dried off and realized _heyyyyy_, no clothes.

"Sam - hand me my bag, would ya?" I called through the door.

The door opened and a navy duffel bag poked through the opening.

My clothes here looked like my clothes in my reality. Apparently, "boring and gender neutral" is a style that spans time and space.

Once dressed and my hair was twisted into a ponytail ball, I emerged from the bathroom ready to get on the road. Sam was sitting on the bed, rotating his shoulder, like he was testing it out.

Dropping my bag on the floor, I motioned with my hand. "Take your shirt off so I can see what you did."

Huffing, Sam started the shirt removal process, only to groan a little as a way of asking for help.

I helped tug it off and carefully prodded the joint, noting the slight swelling and bruising. "Was I so out of it last night that I didn't see you hurting?"

Sam shook his head. "Wasn't this bad last night. _Unghghh_...that's the spot…," he gasped. His hands gripped the side of the bed and his face contorted into a grimace.

I shook my head back at him and pulled at my chin. "It's not dislocated or anything, I think you just pulled it. Do we have any of those icy hot patches left?" Like I had any idea what he had in his med kit. But this conversation was like many I've had with my brothers after hunts, and the words just flowed out of my mouth as if this was just...normal.

Another head shake. "Ran out back in Texas." He sighed, long and low, and his shoulders kind of slumped.

"We'll stop on the way out of town, okay?" I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the strands slide between my fingers. I tucked some behind his ear. "Lemme check the rest of you real quick." I suspected something else was bothering him. That sigh over a lack of hot patches felt out of place.

Proving me right, all he did was swallow, and lift one arm, revealing a nice bruise running the length of his side, disappearing below his waistband. I let out a low whistle, gently running my hands over it. "How far down does this go?"

He twisted and looked down at it. "A few inches. I got knocked into a tree right after you did, only I hit it sideways, while you hit yours head on." He looked up at me, lowering his arm and smiling ruefully. "We're a pair, today."

"Mmmmm...I think we're a pair every day. You were moving pretty good last night. Or at least I think you were."

"I was. Probably running off adrenaline." He thunked his head against my chest. "Maybe we can tell him we're busy, and visit next weekend."

I massaged the back of his head. "Which _we_ are you talking about? Because _I'm_ not delivering that message to him."

"Bah."

Taking a chance, I pulled out a conversation I had with Dean during Sam's sophomore year. "Look. We hunt, he doesn't, and that's okay. Honestly? He has to get over it, Sam. I know he just wants what's best for us, but he also has to accept that this is the path we chose, just like we've accepted his." I gave his scalp an extra scritching. "You want me to drive?"

He leaned back, squinting up at me. "Last I checked, I wasn't dead. So no, you're not driving my baby."

I arched an eyebrow. _His_ baby? Well, well.

Raising my hands in surrender, I conceded. "Okay, just trying to help."

We put his shirt back on and he rose to get his bags, already neatly packed and sitting on the table. "You're taking at least half a pill of the good stuff, to help with the pain, and you can't drive with that shit in you." I started to protest, but got cut off. "The pain's gonna get worse with you sitting in the car for hours, and by the time you figure that out, we'll be too close to Dean for you to take anything, and then you'll regret _not_ taking something, and I'm not dealing with that emo bullshit today."

He hefted his bags and plastered a smile on his face. I blinked at him. "Someone needs his coffee," I grumbled.

"Yep, and that'd be this bitch right here." He gestured at himself. "Now let's get going. You need some food in your stomach before you take that pill."

**xxxxx**

Turns out, we were on the outskirts of Carson City, Nevada, and the Dog was on the fringe of Tahoe National Forest. So we had about two hundred forty-five miles to go, give or take a few. Like a good little Winchester, I took half a pill, and let it do its magic. Sam was right - half a pill definitely and absolutely took the edge off, and maybe made me feel like I just smoked a joint.

We stopped at a drugstore and got Sam's shoulder all patched up with those muscle stickers that made him shiver as the medicine started to work. One more stop for caffeine and we were on the highway, heading southwest along Route 50.

I shifted in my seat and accidentally kicked a box of tapes on the floor. Bending down to look, I was surprised to find a bunch of mix tapes, all numbered from one to twelve. I don't know why, but I still expected to find a bunch of Zeppelin and Sabbath tapes peeking at me.

"You can put one in if you want," Sam said, glancing over at me.

I hesitated. "Which one do you want to hear?"

He shrugged, winced, then made this quick little gesture with his hand. "Whichever one you want. Just pick one."

I still hesitated. I wasn't driving, so…

He looked over again. "What's wrong? Your head hurt?" He had this little frown on his face, like he couldn't figure out why I was just sitting there, with what was probably a really confused look on my face.

I guess the music rules are different here.

Shaking my head, I answered, "No - nothing's wrong. Just...don't know which one to pick."

Sam chuckled. "Would you feel better if I picked one?"

It seemed stupid, but I did. I totally did. Holding out the box, I let Sam grab a cassette and pop it into the player. I set the box back onto the floor, then settled back against my seat, enjoying the scenery flashing by.

Half an hour passed, and I was stunned into silence at the music on that tape. The mix was incredible - you never knew what was coming up next. It started off with classic rock, then gave way to something purely classical, then jazz, then something alternative, indie electronic, even country. I found myself smiling at each song change.

It reminded me of my current situation.

"What current situation?" Sam asked.

Oh shit...talking out loud again...

"Yes, Kate, you're totally talking out loud." He laughed. "I love you _so fucking much_ when you're on those pills."

I turned to face him, feeling the cool leather against my cheek as my head stayed firmly attached to the headrest. "Mmmm...and I love _you_ so fucking much when I'm _on_ these pills. How much longer?"

"Longer. Take a nap. I'll wake you when we're there."

I shook my head, keeping my lips pressed firmly together to avoid babbling. "Wanna visit with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow, his mouth curved into a smile. "You visit with me all the time."

Sighing, I faced the window. "Not really." Like I could explain it more. More-er. _Mmmmm,_ _pills_...

Sam reached over and squeezed my hand. "Is this just the pills making you all mushy or is something else going on in there?"

I blew out a breath, watching the window fog up in a misshapen circle shape. "You ever wonder if there are other universes out there? With us in them?"

"What...you mean alternate realities? Like that Star Trek episode we saw last week?"

I had no idea what "we" saw last week, but I ran with it anyway. "Yeah. So like, what if there are an infinity number of me's and you's and Deans running around in an infinity number of life situations. That'd be weird, right?" I was well aware of my goofy word choice and the fact that I barely made sense, but the meds made me not give a shit if I sounded stupid.

I just wanted to talk with my brother.

Sam gave my hand one last squeeze before returning to the steering wheel. "Well, there isn't scientific proof that it can't exist, so I suppose that means it's possible. Would it be weird? I guess so...I mean, it's hard to imagine other versions of me running around doing something other than what I'm doing now."

The fog circle faded, so I made another one and started tracing various symbols in it. "What if you were at Stanford, and Dean was hunting?"

A loud barking laugh erupted from his mouth. "That's...yeah, I can't even imagine that!"

I breathed a little laugh. "And what if your mom was alive, and Dad was gone?"

That one was met with complete silence...so much silence that I glanced over to make sure he even heard me. He had this odd expression on his face, a nice combo of sad and contemplative.

"Sam?"

His eyes darted toward me real quick. "I heard you. I'm just...trying to imagine that one...and...I can't. I just...can't." He rubbed his jaw, and his forehead got that wrinkly look, telling the world he was thinking really hard.

I turned back to the window. "What if we met the other us's? What if we couldn't get back home? What if...what if I lost you?"

"Oooooo-kay, visit time's over."

"Huh?" I frowned at him. Did I out myself?

He reached across the seat, and tugged on my sleeve. I scooted closer as his arm snaked around my shoulders, pulling me until my head rested against him. "Nap time, Kitkat. You're getting sad over a scientific theory, which means you need to sleep it off. Then we'll just give you extra strength over the counter stuff from now on, okay? _Okay_."

"But - "

"Shush."

His fingers brushed up and down my arm, and I couldn't stop myself from drifting to sleep.

**xxxxx**

A gentle nudge and a singing voice woke me. "Heyyyyy Kitkat - we're almost there. Time to wakey-wakey."

My head was resting against a jacket wedged between me and the window. I swallowed and sat up, blinking as the cobwebs cleared from my brain and the jacket dropped to my lap. Reaching down, I felt the stitches in my side, and knew that I was still..._here_. Making some sort of grunting noise to let Sam know I was awake, I uncapped a bottle of water and took a long drink.

I gestured at Sam's shoulder. "You need another round of stickers?"

He rotated his shoulder a little and nodded. "Yeah, I think one more'll do the trick."

I nodded and grabbed the box of patches from the drugstore bag and began the process of getting Sam's arm out of his shirt, then removing the old patches and placing the new. I was fairly engrossed in my task and still shaking off sleep and my own pain meds, so Sam's question caught me completely off guard.

"So...who's Castiel?"

I froze, patch poised above his shoulder, my jaw hanging down. My eyes darted this way and that, as my brain scrambled to come up with an intelligent answer.

"Um…why?" Three cheers for stalling.

Sam glanced at me. "You were saying his name in your sleep..." _Fucking awesome._ "...and asking him to get you home." _Cherry-on-the-sundae awesome._

I swallowed slowly, and finished patching Sam's shoulder, still buying time until I could come up with a response.

"At least I'm assuming it's a he. You kinda..._moaned_ his name, so…"

Just fucking shoot me now. _Moaned_ his name? _Gah…_

I felt a blush rise up my neck and into my cheeks. "What else did I say?" I asked, trying to determine if I said more than I should have.

He shrugged with his uninjured shoulder. "You mumbled something about a trenchcoat. That's it."

I got Sam's arm back in its sleeve and smoothed his shirt down. After gathering up the garbage, I scooted back to my side and absently shoved it all into the bag. Sam nudged me. "Hey...you okay? It's not a big deal, I was just curious. You've just never talked in your sleep before."

I waved a hand at him. "No...it's fine. Cas is…" And brilliance struck. "...a character from a book I read. Guess I was remembering him." I flashed what I hoped was an embarrassed smile.

Sam shook his head and laughed softly. "I know you like those trashy romance novels, so I figured he was from one of them. They always have exotic names like Sebastian, Tristan or Blake." He lowered his voice dramatically for that last one.

I laughed loudly (and maybe a twinge hysterically), and 'fessed up'. "_Yeeeaah…_" And left it at that.

We passed a sign announcing that we were about an hour outside Palo Alto, so Sam decided to stop, fill the Impala, and go to the bathroom. I got some caffeine to help me wake up, and took some extra-strength Advil to help with the pain. He did the same.

Castiel didn't re-enter our conversation, and I hoped it stayed that way. The last hour passed quickly, and before I knew it, we pulled into Palo Alto and cruised down main and side roads to Dean's apartment.

Dean, the graduate student, lived with Cassie in a posh area off campus. I remembered my Sam telling me about this apartment complex when he was at school - the rent was double the average rate in town. From what this Sam said, Dean was earning money from his intern job, even though he wasn't supposed to get a salary. They liked him that much.

The Impala rumbled to a stop in front of a six-story apartment building, which looked like it was built yesterday. The expansive front yard was perfectly manicured, and currently populated with several men playing football. It didn't take long to find Dean, laughing with some blond guy.

Laughing.

Playing a sport.

_Laughing while doing something athletic that didn't involve sex or a weapon_.

Sam watched the scene, eyes lighting up when he spotted our brother, despite the frown on his lips when he saw everyone else.

"What is it?" I asked.

Sam shook his head. "He's talking to that Brady guy - the one who hit on you last time." He narrowed his eyes. "I don't like him...something's off...just...can't put my finger on it." The warning was in his voice, even though it wasn't in his words.

_Stay away from him._

I looked back at Dean, who spotted the Impana and was jogging over. I nodded at Sam, telling him I got the message. Sam huffed through his nose before opening the door and stepping outside. I followed suit, grinning when Dean pulled Sam into a huge hug.

"Hey, Sammy!"

"Hey, Dean. How are you?"

Sam returned the hug, a little awkwardly, because of his shoulder. He winced when Dean grabbed him, setting off Dean's big brother radar.

Dean let go and stood back, running his fingers through his hair, eyes narrowing. "Good! Better than you. Where're you hurt?"

Sam laughed. "Shoulder and side. But I'm okay. Just bruised."

"Uh-huh. I'll check inside." He turned to me and walked over. I stayed close to the car for support, but reached out with both arms, eager to be wrapped up in Happy Dean. "Hey, Katie," he said, his mouth curved into a smile.

"Hey, Dean!" I wasn't disappointed. Dean hugs were like no other.

In my ear, he murmured, "Where were _you_ hurt, hmmm?"

I chuckled and shrugged. "Got some stitches in my side. No big deal." I kissed his cheek and smiled up at him. "It's really good to see you." And it was. This Dean was still older than Sam, but he didn't look it. He had no haunted look in his eye, no heavy weight of guilt and more guilt for things that weren't his fault.

He cupped his hand around the back of my neck and gave me a gentle squeeze. "It's good to see you, too. Come on. Cassie's inside, and I wanna check you two over before we go eat."

Sam rolled his eyes as he made his way to the trunk. "We're _fine_, Dean. Let's just go eat. I'm starving!"

Dean grabbed the bags out of the trunk, but still managed to point a finger at Sam. "Shut up. I haven't seen you in a few months, and when I do, you're both hurt. I get to check you over before we do anything, and you don't get to argue with me." He turned his back to us and began walking up the path. "Besides, I need a quick shower before we go anywhere. C'mon."

Sam winked at me and I hid a smile behind my hand. We each grabbed a second bag of weapons and warding supplies. Sam leaned down and whispered, "We'll check the wards when they're asleep."

Nodding, I hefted the bag onto my shoulder, grunting as the stitches pulled, and followed Dean inside.

He was on the fourth floor, which required the use of an elevator. I hadn't really moved much today, and the short walk from the parking lot to the elevator wiped me out. Dean sensed it, because once the doors closed, he quietly took my weapon bag, giving me a look that cemented the impending exam.

"Cass! They're here!" Dean called out as he set our bags on the floor. He pulled his sweaty t-shirt off and motioned for Sam to do the same.

Sam was about to protest, which was just plain stupid. I smacked him on the arm when Dean went looking for his girlfriend.

_You can't fight the tide._

He opened his mouth, but then thought better of it, tossing me a sour look instead. I would've snickered at him, but I knew my time was coming as well.

"Heyyyyy, guys!"

It's been years since I heard that voice. Funny how plotlines can deviate like crazy, but some threads remain intact. Her dark curls bounced around her pretty face, and she practically ran over to Sam, giving him an enormous hug, clearly excited to see us.

"Hiya, Cassie! How are you?" Sam's response was sincere, so I assumed we were okay with this pairing.

She shrugged and winked at him. "Ehhhh...I'll be better when this stupid dissertation is done. Heya, Kate!" I also got a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, and kudos to me for not crying out when she pressed against my side. "Don't be mad, but we're going shopping tomorrow. I need a girl's opinion on something I want to buy."

I raised my eyebrows. In a dry tone, I asked, "So why are you taking me?"

Cassie laughed and Dean shoved me towards a chair. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, sis. Now sit down 'til I'm done with Sam."

I dutifully sat, and even folded my hands in my lap.

"Sweetie, go grab the first aid kit from the closet, would ya?" Cassie nodded at him, and left. Dean made a face as Sam struggled to remove his shirt. Unable to watch Sam fight with his clothing any longer, Dean stepped in and helped Sam finish undressing.

There they stood - both my brothers - shirtless. Sam's torso was riddled with various scars and bruises, clear evidence of his current profession. The recently acquired bruising stuck out - a bright purple blob running down Sam's side. The muscle patches were pale and bright against his tan skin.

Contrast that with Dean, whose chest was notably _not _covered with scars and bruises. There was one lone scar, about five inches long, running across his belly. Other than that, it was practically pristine.

Sam caught me staring, and leaned forward, resting elbows on knees. With a smirk, he drawled, "See somethin' you like?" Then he waggled his eyebrows at me.

I couldn't stop myself from bursting out laughing. Dean, however, had a look of disgust on his face. "Dude! Gross!"

Sam shrugged and sat up, settling comfortably in the chair. "I was just asking. She looked interested."

Dean gagged, missing the wink Sam gave me.

The cocky attitude wiped off his face a second later as Dean poked around his shoulder. Sam hissed between his teeth, eyeing Dean with no small measure of distaste. "You know, it's a _little fucking creepy_ having you examine me without _your_ shirt on."

Without looking up, Dean lightly smacked Sam on the head, and continued checking him over. "This looks nasty, man. What hit you?"

Sam grunted, gripping the edge of the chair as Dean touched a particularly sore spot. "A tree. Don't worry...showed it who's boss." I half rose from my seat to help, but one reprimanding look from big brother put my butt right back down.

Cassie returned with the med kit, letting out a low whistle when she saw Sam. She set the kit on the table and opened it up, awaiting further direction. She didn't seem surprised by his injuries at all, and more than that, she didn't ask where they came from. The only explanation I could think of was that she knew what we did.

And _this_ Cassie was okay with that.

Which earned points in my book.

There wasn't anything Dean could do about Sam's hurts - a wrenched shoulder and bruised side didn't warrant any treatment other than well wishes, and maybe an ice pack.

"Let's get some ice on you before we go, okay?" Dean glanced at Cassie, who quickly left again, pausing only to give Dean a soft kiss on the cheek.

Sam nodded and gingerly let go of the chair, glad to be out of the spotlight.

Dean turned to me, and before he could say anything, I interrupted. "I'm not taking my shirt off, so don't ask." He gave me an _Oh No You Didn't _look, but I waved him off, and simply it so he could see the stitches.

The slightly bloody bandages stopped him from whatever snarky retort he was about to make. "Oh, Katie…" Dean sighed, crouching down to take a closer look. He peeled back the tape and gauze, letting out another slow breath while dragging a hand down his face.

I squinted at him. "Sam's right - it _is _really creepy having you do this shirtless."

I got another look that shut me right up, but Sam snickered loudly. Cassie handed Sam his ice pack and came to stand by Dean, her eyes sad as he continued his exam. "They're _sooo _red." He glanced over his shoulder at Sam. "You did a great job on these." Sam gave him a _No Shit_ look before Dean returned to me. "Maybe we should stay in." He pulled fresh gauze from the med kit and rewrapped the wound.

I rolled my eyes. "Dean - it's a few stitches. And I'm hungry. Go shower."

Green eyes swung up to meet mine. I could see the gears turning, so I cut him off. "Nuh-uh. Yes, they hurt. But I've been sitting in a car all day, and I just wanna visit and get food that isn't from a diner. _Please_."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam nod approvingly. _Nice touch, saying please._

Thankfully, Cassie stepped in. "Dean, honey, if you want me to hang with you guys later, you need to give me the time you promised to work on my paper. You're going to dinner, not playing hockey." Dean stood up, an argument already on his lips, but she was ready for him. "Compromise! Pick up beer and some dessert on your way home, and we'll hang out here instead of going to the club, okay?"

I bit my lower lip, intrigued by the interaction between Dean and Cassie. He actually listened to her, nodding slowly, his lips pursed together. "Yeah, okay. You two just...wait here. I'll shower and we'll head out."

Sam and I had enough smarts to keep our mouths shut as Dean and Cassie walked away...Cassie winking at us just as they turned a corner and disappeared from view.

Sam sagged in his chair. "Well. That went better than I expected."

I nodded in agreement.

Then he leaned forward again, eyes intently watching me. "How do they feel, really?"

I shifted in my seat, taking stock of how I was doing. "Better. They hurt, and I'm definitely not ready to run a marathon, but I can get through dinner." I jutted my chin towards the oversized couch sitting in the living room. "Can't wait to plop my ass in that bad boy, though."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, that thing's fucking amazing." He gave me a sharp look. "And no, you can't sit in it while we wait for Dean to clean up. You'll never get back up again if you do."

I laughed. He was right - I slept the majority of the trip, so I wasn't tired, but I was eager to be comfortable. And that thing looked _comfortable_.

Sam looked around the room, eyes locking on various items or spots where maybe he hid protection bags or wrote warding symbols. He murmured, "Gotta remember to grab that mojo bag we got in New Orleans. I know the perfect spot for it." I had no idea what bag this was, so I hoped that Sam wouldn't rely on my non-existent memory of it.

Before long, Dean returned, freshly dressed in jeans and a button down shirt (so very..._Sam)_ and we left for the restaurant.

Sam drove, with Dean giving directions to some new steakhouse in town that he said made amazing prime rib. He chattered about this and that, somehow managing to avoid asking about hunting. The restaurant was busy, but there were some empty pockets of tables. Our table, near the back, was in the middle of one of those pockets, thankfully.

The waitress came to take our drink order. Sam eyed her up and down, and once our orders were placed, he even leaned back in his chair, until it balanced on two legs, to watch her walk away.

Dean shook his head. "Christ, Sam. You're unbelievable."

Sam's chair thunked back on the floor. Face all innocent, he answered, "What? She's hot. And we're staying for a couple days." He shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt to have some non-family company."

Dean opened his menu with a huff, and began reading with a vengeance. "I live here, man, and Cassie loves this place. So no screwing with the wait staff and giving me a bad rep here."

Sam casually opened his menu. "Chill out, Dean. I'm sorry that my manhood offends your delicate side."

The eyeroll that followed could've popped Dean's eyeballs out of his sockets.

We ordered (Sam a steak, and Dean a grilled tuna salad), and relaxed into the homey atmosphere. Dean had this weird look on his face, and he toyed with his glass of wine, slowly spinning it this way and that on the table.

I put down my beer and took the plunge. "So...what's on your mind?"

Dean's eyes shot up to meet mine, his cheeks turning red. "What do you mean?"

Sam absently twirled his knife between his fingers. "You're on edge. What is it?"

Dean sighed, and pushed his glass towards the center of the table. "Okay. Look. I...took a job." His eyes darted between Sam and me, not sure what our reaction would be.

"That's great, Dean! Where?" I asked, all sincere and excited. Which I was. I just needed him to see it.

Dean licked his lips. "Topeka."

Oooh, that was about half an hour from Lawrence.

Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean sat up straight. "Hear me out, okay?"

Sam sighed. "Dean - we're happy for you. You don't have to explain why you took a job!"

Dean shook his head, needing to explain anyway. He looked at each of us, then pulled his wine glass close and kept his eyes on it. "Listen...I had offers in a few different states. I chose Topeka because...housing's cheap there. I mean, cheaper than the other cities I could've gone to. Cassie and I already started looking at places, and I can get a really good sized house, with land, for a good price."

Sam stiffened a little, but said nothing, so Dean plunged forward. "I know you don't want to give up hunting, okay? I don't like it, but Cassie keeps hammering at me that I can't make you quit if you don't want to." Sam snorted. "Shut up. I just...if I can't keep you safe by getting you out, then the least I can do is give you a home."

My eyes widened, as did Sam's. It was like chum in the water. Dean's speech tumbled out faster, enthusiasm evident in his voice, which no longer trembled. "Topeka is centrally located, which means you can stop on your way across the country, no matter what direction you're going. It's about five hours from Bobby, which isn't the best, but it's closer than the other places I was considering, and an easy drive in a pinch. There's an airport, and I can get a house with enough bedrooms and storage for kids _and _kid siblings." He paused to take a breath. "I'm gonna pop the question to Cassie...tonight. Once we get back."

Whoa…

"I wanted you guys there, because...being a part of this family is...well, it's an admission to the fucked up shit in this world. And if she's willing to be a part of that, she has to understand that you two come with the package."

Okay...first off, Dean getting married floored me. Second off, it was interesting how Dad was nowhere in this equation, and Sam never brought him up. Third..._Dean's getting married._

I almost asked if Cassie was pregnant, but I figured this Dean wouldn't take kindly to that question.

I looked to Sam for some direction on how to respond. Last thing I needed was to do the wrong thing. This moment was too important. Sam kept his eyes on his beer bottle for several seconds, before raising his eyes to mine. He liked this plan. A lot. It was in his eyes, plain as day. I grinned at him. He grinned back.

"Well? You gonna say anything or leave me hanging?" Dean bit out in frustration.

I took this one. "How long did it take you to compose that speech?"

Dean blinked at me. "Minutes."

I nodded approvingly. "Well worth it, right Sam?"

Sam nodded as well. "Absolutely. Tuition well spent."

Dean let out an explosive breath. "Fuck, I thought you'd be so pissed."

Sam shook his head. "No...it's...it's more than we could've asked for. Really. Just...you're gonna ask her tonight? In front of us?"

Dean nodded and began peeling the label off my beer bottle.

"You sure about that? I mean, what if she dumps your pretty ass right then and there?"

He kept peeling. "She won't." Now the peeling stopped, and he met Sam's gaze. "I dunno why, but she loves me. She loves you both, too. She won't leave."

Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder. "Congratulations, man. Let's get another beer to celebrate!"

**xxxxx**

Dean talked the entire time we ate, and it continued in the car, on the ride back to his apartment. "This one house even has what they call a mother-in-law apartment attached, where it's like a separate apartment, with its own door outside and a bathroom, so you could come and go as you please without worrying about us."

I sat in the back, next to a few six-packs, two bottles of wine, and a fresh chocolate cream pie, smiling at Dean's babbling. I couldn't believe the sheer excitement in his voice at something not involving cars, women, or hunting.

It was awesome.

We parked the Impala and hauled our loot upstairs. I was full, happy, and enjoying myself. If this fucking spell made me leave before Dean proposed, Uriel would get an extra stab in the gut out of sheer spite.

The living room was dark when we got inside. Dean flicked a light switch on the wall. "Cassie! We're home!" He placed the pie and wine on the table, then removed his jacket. "She usually works in the office with headphones on. I'll be right back." He flashed us a nervous grin, to which Sam answered with a thumbs up.

As soon as he left, Sam turned to me. "I don't even know what to say."

Dropping onto that couch, I rolled my head from side to side and carefully stretched. "There's nothing to say, Sam. He's happy. And it's nice to see him happy."

He plopped next to me, lifting his arm so I could lean on him, and pressed a kiss to my head. "I know. I just...I think I'm still in shock. That was a lot to take in, you know?"

I nodded in agreement, settling more comfortably against him.

We sat, breathing in tandem, lost in our own thoughts. I must've been pretty lost, because it took me a little bit longer than Sam to smell it.

"Is that..._sulfur?_" Before we could leap off the couch, Dean's screams pierced the air, sending goosebumps down my arms and back. Sam was down the hall in a flash, with me right behind, barreling into the room at the end of the back hallway. I froze for a second, horror stricken at the sight before me.

Dean was scrambling to reach the ceiling, where Cassie was pinned, blood dripping from slashes across her midsection. Her expression was frozen in one of amazement, increasing the terror level in her frantic boyfriend.

Sam grabbed Dean and threw him to the ground, covering Dean's body with his own, just as the ceiling erupted in flames. Stumbling a couple steps backwards and throwing my hands in front of my face in a lame effort to ward off the heat blast, I tore my eyes off Cassie, a sick feeling spreading from my stomach as it sunk in that I was going through _this whole fucking nightmare again_.

Forcing my way back _into _the room, I helped Sam drag Dean _out_ of the room. He continued to shriek Cassie's name, fighting us with every ounce of strength he had in an effort to reach her.

Sam shouted _Dean's_ name, I shouted Dean _and_ Sam's names, _Dean kept screaming_.

By the time we got him through the doorway, Cassie's body was completely engulfed, obscured by smoke and flames, the blinding bursts of light forcing Dean to avert his eyes from his burning girlfriend. As soon as she disappeared from sight, Dean slumped against me, arms around my neck, sobbing hysterically. The unexpected weight almost pulled me to the ground, but Sam was there, hoisting Dean from under his arms, and half carrying him to the front door...which was blocked by a creepy looking man.

The mystery person, who was almost definitely _not_ a person, wore a long, black coat, whose collar was turned up, framing his face and adding to the creepy factor. We stopped cold, dread filling us, as we watched his eyes flicker yellow.

Okay..._this_ didn't happen when we rescued Sam...

He smiled and shook his head. "You have to understand. I need all my Winchesters out in the field, playing the game, fighting the fight. It's the only way."

Then the bastard took a step closer.

Sam tapped my shoulder, telling me to hold onto Dean, just before stepping in front, shielding us. Eyes blazing, Sam straightened to his full height, hands clenched at his side, wordlessly daring the Demon to try something.

I was expecting Dean to launch himself at the asshole, but he didn't. Instead, his hand tightened around my arm, and his stance shifted so that I could be easily pushed out of harms way if necessary. I gripped him back, letting him know that i_n no fucking way_ would I be tossed aside.

The Demon flapped his hand at us, in this patronizing, dismissive way. "Stand down, Sam. I'm not going to hurt you." He casually glanced around the room, almost sadly, and sighed. "Give my regards to your father."

Then he was gone.

**xxxxx**

The next couple hours passed in a haze. Questions from the fire department, the police, neighbors, doctors...all repetitive, none of them focused on the sheer grief radiating from Dean, who, for the most part, sat huddled in a blanket, on the hood of the Impala. One hand rested flat against her skin, allowing Dean to draw strength from his second home.

I had just finished answering questions from a med tech, who wanted to make sure we were okay before she packed up her equipment. She gave me a prescription for sedatives, in case Dean needed them. I knew he _needed_ them, I just didn't know if he'd _take_ them.

I watched Sam walk towards me, jaw set and eyes hard. Everyone moved out of his way as he passed through the crowd, not wanting to tangle with him. His presence was commanding, and it was clear that in order to reach Dean, you had to go through him - no matter who you were.

He held up his phone as he approached. "No answer from Dad. Bobby told us to go to his place as soon as we're done here, but I'm not even sure how long that'll be." His tone was clipped, barely containing the emotions I knew were swirling inside.

Behind him, the fire department wound up their hoses and repacked their equipment. The apartment building was still standing, but the apartment itself was completely destroyed. Dean's neighbors were still milling around on the lawn, unable to return to their homes. They kept taking turns staring at Dean, wanting to offer their sympathies, but unwilling to cross Sam to do so.

Sam begged me to handle communicating with their friends. He would handle anyone who became annoying, but only Sam knew the definition of 'annoying', curtly dismissing people when they crossed whatever imaginary line he drew around us. He was on the highest alert, thankfully able to grab the weapons on our way out of the apartment the second the Demon disappeared, and stash them back in the trunk soon after we stumbled out the front door.

We had bottled holy water in our pockets, and were ready to spit out an exorcism should the need arise. Tension was high as more people gathered around us. Between the emergency responders, neighbors, and friends, it was practically impossible to determine if demons were prowling around. We obsessively checked for possession as subtly as possible, Dean always in sight, if not within reach.

Sam sighed and glared at his phone. "Maybe Dad'll call before we have to leave. I dunno. He fucking better."

All I could do was nod in response. The memories of Jess's death resurfaced, fresh and raw, now compounded by Dean's grief. I rubbed at my eyes, feeling very, very tired. "I already called Cassie's sister. She said she'd take care of informing her parents and the rest of her family. I'm sure Dean will start getting phone calls soon."

Sam made an _Aw, Shit_ face, and scrubbed his hands over his face.

I placed a hand on his arm and gently squeezed. "I'll take care of it, Sam. Don't worry. Right now, we need a motel room...get him cleaned up and into bed." We both snuck a peek at Dean, who hadn't moved off the Impala. His eyes were hooded and vacant, and he didn't so much as flinch when a med tech took his blood pressure.

Sam sighed again. "Yeah...we have the emergency duffel in the trunk, so at least we have some clean clothes and supplies. Let's get a room and take care of him...then figure out what to do next."

We pushed through a couple of people trying to get a look at Dean. They scrambled away after Sam glared at them.

Dean raised his eyes to mine as I approached.

Blinking back my own tears, I whispered, "Hey there…," as I reached out to touch his cheek.

Surprisingly, he let me, closing his eyes and pressing against my hand. "Hey…," he whispered back.

Sam patted Dean's knee. "We're going to a motel, okay?"

Dean silently nodded, eyes back on mine, wordlessly begging me to convince him that this wasn't happening.

_Believe me, big brother, I want to, but I can't._

Dean sighed, and slid off the roof, letting the blanket fall from his shoulders as he sat in the back seat of the Impala. I shared a look with Sam before climbing in next to him, letting him crumble against me as we pulled away from his smoldering home.

**xxxxx**

Keeping with the thread of events, Sam somehow chose the exact same motel Dean did when Jess died. It wasn't the same room, but it was next door. Dean sat very still on the bed farthest from the window while Sam and I warded the room. His eyes were rooted on the floor, and he said nothing. The crying in the car wiped him out, and I was pretty sure I could get him to take some pills and crawl into bed once he took a shower.

When the room was safe, Sam opened the emergency duffel bag and pulled out clothing. He glanced at Dean before turning to me. "Kate...you shower first, okay?"

Nodding slowly, I took the clothes from him, squeezing his hand as it came in contact with mine. He smiled this sad little smile, telling me that he wanted a few minutes alone with his brother.

I nodded again, returning that smile, and went into the bathroom.

Sam knew that Dean would share a bed with me, and he'd curl up into a ball, needing to be held and coddled a bit. Not exactly what brothers do for each other. So a few minutes alone while I showered, would give him the opportunity to share his grief, before diving full tilt into revenge mode.

I undressed, unbandaged, and welcomed the hot spray on my skin. I knew I had to be mindful of how much hot water I used, but I also wanted to give them some time alone. I splayed my hands against the pale blue tile, and closed my eyes, feeling every single drop of water hit, losing myself in the sensation.

After what I hoped wasn't too long, I turned off the water, dried off and dressed. It's not that I dreaded facing Dean, I just dreaded facing his grief, and facing this tragedy _again_.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped back into the room...where Dad was sitting at a table with Adam labeling parts of a map, and no sign of Sam or Dean at all.

**XXXXxxxx TBC xxxxXXXX**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Previously, on Quantum AU…**_

When the room was safe, Sam opened the emergency duffel bag and pulled out clothing. He glanced at Dean before turning to me. "Kate...you shower first, okay?"

Nodding slowly, I took the clothes from him, squeezing his hand as it came in contact with mine. He smiled this sad little smile, telling me that he wanted a few minutes alone with his brother.

I nodded again, returning that smile, and went into the bathroom.

Sam knew that Dean would share a bed with me, and he'd curl up into a ball, needing to be held and coddled a bit. Not exactly what brothers do for each other. So a few minutes alone while I showered, would give him the opportunity to share his grief, before diving full tilt into revenge mode.

I undressed, unbandaged, and welcomed the hot spray on my skin. I knew I had to be mindful of how much hot water I used, but I also wanted to give them some time alone. I splayed my hands against the pale blue tile, and closed my eyes, feeling every single drop of water hit, losing myself in the sensation.

After what I hoped wasn't too long, I turned off the water, dried off and dressed. It's not that I dreaded facing Dean, I just dreaded facing his grief, and facing this tragedy _again_.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped back into the room...where Dad was sitting at a table with Adam labeling parts of a map, and no sign of Sam or Dean at all.

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

Um…

I turned around and looked behind me...yep, okay, there's the bathroom. I looked down at my hands, which were full of my clothes which...yep...smelled like smoke.

"You okay, Kate? You look all confused."

_Well, if it walks like a duck…_

"Uh...no...I mean…" I turned around again. Yep, there's the bathroom. Great, so now I can shift while awake. And naked. This keeps getting better.

Adam shook his head at me. "Maybe she inhaled too much smoke."

Maybe I did.

Thunder boomed, rattling the windows and my teeth, making me jump and reach for a nonexistent weapon that was nonexistently tucked into my sweat pants, dropping my clothes in the process.

Dad laughed and folded up the map. "It's okay - just that thunderstorm finally rolling into town." He tucked the map into a nice backpack - the kind you get from an up-do outdoor supply shop.

Something wasn't right. Okay, nothing in this whole fucking spell was right, but I meant with Dad. It was Dad, but...he looked relaxed. At ease. Which was so _not_ Dad. Not _my_ dad. _Goddammit_.

"Go put your clothes in the laundry bag. We figured out where we're heading next."

"Yeah?" I asked, searching the room for this laundry bag, and only finding it when Adam pointed at a red mesh bag sitting in a corner. "Where's the next hunt?"

Dad and Adam exchanged a look. _Aw, crap._ "Since when do you want to go hunting?" Dad asked, face all scrunched up like I just asked him...um...to go hunting when obviously we don't hunt. In any sense of the word. "What happened to animal rights, and the evils of eating meat?"

Evils of…?

"Right. I meant...the next hunt for adventure! Where are we going?" _Smooooooth_, Winchester.

Adam sat down on a bed and rubbed the back of his neck. "We were thinking of heading into South Dakota."

"To visit Bobby?" I still sucked at this. Shit kept popping out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Bobby who? Is that one of your Facebook friends?" Dad asked, hands on hips and looking, _holy shit,_ like such a Dad.

Adam got this tight look on his face and turned away.

What the fuck is Facebook? "No, he's...no one important. Nevermind. I'm tired. I'm not making sense. Maybe I did inhale too much smoke." Speaking of which, how the hell did I get covered in smoke if I didn't just watch Dean's life shatter into a million pieces and this reality didn't just burn someone's bones?

Adam muttered, "Only you would breathe in too much smoke at a fricking bonfire."

Bonfire? A "for fun" fire? _Huh_...

"Yeah, well, you know me."

Dad laughed and came over to ruffle my wet hair. "I'm gonna take a shower. Why don't you guys start some laundry then see if you can find a movie on this ancient box. Next stop won't be so rustic, I promise." He picked up a toiletry bag and some clean clothes, then headed into the bathroom.

I slowly let out a breath. I'd been ready to crawl into bed with a broken brother, and now I was doing laundry with Adam with no fucking information on Sam and Dean. After the Bobby misspeak, I knew I couldn't ask anything, so I hoped some information would present itself.

Adam hefted the laundry bag over his shoulder, grunting as the bulk hit him in the back. I grabbed the bottle of laundry soap off the floor. "Hold on - I'm coming," I said, slipping into some girly-looking tennis shoes and following him out of the room.

Rain was starting to fall, pelting the cars and making gentle tapping noises. Adam silently led the way past other rooms, then stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. "Ready?" He asked over his shoulder. Without waiting for an answer, he jogged across the lot to another building, which looked like it'd seen better days. By the time I caught up with him, he'd unlocked the door and entered.

"Turn on the light, would ya?" He asked, dropping the laundry bag on an enormous table in the middle of the room.

I found the switch next to the door, and flipped it, watching a few florescent bulbs flicker to life. The room was cold and drafty, with three washers and three dryers lining one wall. The floor was concrete, and cracked in several spots.

Adam sniffed loudly, and started sorting laundry. I walked over and helped, stealing glances at him as we worked. Where Dad had a relaxed, easy look, Adam was the opposite. His lips were pressed together, like they were holding something inside that he refused to release. Under his eyes were dark smudges, accenting the drooping lids and worry lines. There was tension in his shoulders, and he just seemed on edge.

Something was going on. My baby brother was usually a chatterbox, telling me everything and anything on his mind. This Adam said very little, and almost looked like he'd rather be anywhere but with me. Was this Kate a bitch? Christ, I hoped not.

Once everything was sorted, Adam reached into his pocket and dug out a handful of quarters. I poured the soap, and we got the machines started. He stood there a moment, jingling the remaining coins in his hand, like he was contemplating what to do next.

"Should we wait here for the wash cycle to finish or go back to the room?" I asked softly, feeling like he needed to make that call.

He glanced at me, then shoved the coins back in his jeans. "Doesn't matter." He shuffled to a window and leaned against it, staring at the now downpour outside.

I guess we're staying here.

I wiped a dribble of soap off the bottle and rinsed my hands in the rusty utility sink. I didn't have a book to read or apparently anyone to talk to, so I joined Adam at the window and watched the rain.

There's definitely something cathartic about rain watching. The seemingly neverending droplets can't be individually tracked, like snowflakes gently floating downward. But you _can_ watch its effect on various objects, like making even the dullest surface glisten. Soon, it was easy to see where the parking lot dipped and curved, as puddles formed, filling in gaps and holes in the pavement.

Beside me, Adam shivered, and wrapped his arms around himself. After making sure I had a t-shirt underneath, I pulled my sweatshirt off and handed it over. "Here...wear this."

He took it, then stared at it, not knowing what to do.

_Yeesh_. "You shivered, which generally means you're cold. If you put this on, the cold factor usually goes away." I'm so clever with words.

Maybe too clever, because Adam just blinked at me, then down at the shirt, and back up to me. I sighed. "Adam - put it on. You have goosebumps all over your arms." Before he could move, I vigorously rubbed up and down his arms, trying to speed up the warming process.

His mouth opened, then clamped shut. Then opened again as he sneezed off to the side.

"Yeah, put the damn thing on. _Now_. And maybe say something, because I'm starting to feel weird." I widened the neck-hole and helped him pull it over his head. He shivered again, while I pulled it down. He still looked confused. "And now _you_ look like the one who doesn't know what's going on."

He huffed at that and returned to staring out the window. "Sorry...just don't feel like talking." He rested his head against the frame and sighed.

_What the hell…_

"Okay. That's...okay." I dropped it, and we went back to rain watching.

**xxxxx**

The loads finally finished, and let me tell you, this felt like the longest half hour of my life. I was itching to hold him, talk with him, _some_thing, but all I got was a giant wall of nothing. I had to get Dad alone somehow and figure out what was going on in Adam's head.

The rain slowed somewhat, and we only got mildly wet on the way back to the room. Dad was there, waiting for us on the couch, reading a book. Wearing...glasses. He peered at us over the rims, looking even more like a Dad who waited up for his partying kids. "Hey there - laundry all set?"

Adam took the soap from me and placed it on the table. "Waited for the washers to finish so we could get everything in the dryer before someone else showed up."

Dad nodded and placed a bookmark to mark his spot. Standing, he stretched and took off his glasses which actually looked like reading glasses instead of regular ones. "We'll grab the laundry in the morning. There really isn't much on TV, but feel free to channel surf. I think I'm going to turn in so we can get on the road right away." To emphasize his point, he let out an enormous yawn.

I smiled at him, liking how Dad-like he was. It was a mixed bag, though...wishing my Dad was more like this, but knowing that my Dad wouldn't be _my Dad_ if he _were_ like this. I guess I just want my family happy, and not dealing with, I dunno, stupid shit like angel spells.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna crash, too." Adam emptied the quarters from his pockets onto the table, then headed to the couch. A folded blanket sat under a pillow on one side, which he quietly unfolded and settled under.

I guessed I was in the bed solo, which was definitely weird. Two beds and three people always meant someone shared. Two beds and four people meant someone got the couch.

Then again, this appeared to be a normal family situation, not a my-Winchester fucked up family situation. Teenage siblings didn't share beds.

As Adam rolled away from us, I heard Dad sigh behind me. I turned, eyebrows raised in a question. He shook his head sadly, gave me a kiss on the forehead, and simply said, " 'Night, sweetheart."

**xxxxx**

Let me be clear - I've been trained to wake at the slightest noise. Well, unless I'm shitfaced drunk, in which case, it may need to be a slightly _louder_ noise. I'm pretty good. Maybe not as good as Dean, but still pretty good. Especially when it comes to something being wrong with one of my boys.

Apparently, in someone else's body, training conflicts with circumstances. Or maybe I'm just mentally exhausted from this whole thing.

Either way, I somehow missed the signs Dad waking up and getting dressed, and Adam coughing on the couch. When I finally figured out something was wrong, Dad had his coat on and was hunting (ha) for something in his bags.

"Hey…" I said, my voice sounding as groggy as my head felt. "What's up?" It was still dark outside, with intermittent lightning flashes and thunder booming. I crawled out of bed and headed over, peering at Adam on the way.

In a low voice, Dad muttered, "Where the hell did my keys go?" He glanced up at me, then at Adam, before sighing. "He's got a fever. Gonna go pick up some Tylenol or something from that grocery store. Didn't want to wake you."

I spotted the keys on his bed, peeking out from under the sheet. I leaned over and snagged them. "Need these?" I asked with a small smile. Worry for Adam hit me like a brick. I couldn't believe we didn't have a med kit on hand.

Then again...why would _we_ need one?

"Oh for...thanks." He took them from me and gave me a grim smile. His eyes flickered to Adam for a second before he gestured with his head for me to follow him outside.

I held the door mostly closed with my foot while folding my arms across my body for warmth. Dad's face lit up with the lightning, which would've made him look forbidding in my reality, but here, all I could see was worry.

"I should've been more prepared for this. He's still so strung out...getting sick was inevitable. I just thought…" He paused to sigh and rub at his eyes. "I thought this trip would relax him, you know? Help him cope, help us heal, help us connect." He shook his head sadly. "It's been a few weeks, and he still hasn't really accepted that she's gone. I know what you're gonna say." _Pretty sure you don't, Dad._ "The therapist said he needed time, and that this trip would be good for him, but…" He shook his head again, tears in his eyes.

I had enough of the picture, now, so I figured it was safe to say something. I put my hand on his arm and squeezed. "It _is_ good for him...good for all of us. You're not doing anything wrong." Winchester guilt must also span time and space.

Dad nodded, pulling me close into a John Winchester hug. He kissed the top of my head, then rested his cheek against it. "I love you both so very much. I miss her too, but I'm thankful I still have him."

I hugged him back, letting go when I heard Adam coughing again. "Go to the store. I'll watch him."

Dad nodded, poking me on the nose before leaving, a grateful smile on his face.

As he pulled away in...uh..._not the Impala_ (What the hell? Where was she?) I went back inside and let the door click shut, studying my brother from across the room, pieces of this puzzle finally fitting together. Not only did I have to rewatch a brother lose the love of his life, I also had to rewatch this brother lose his mom.

I fuckng _hate_ Uriel.

I padded over to the couch and sat next to Adam, who had taken off the sweatshirt I gave him, and now lay huddled under a blanket. His eyes were closed, but pinched shut in discomfort. Another flash of lightning revealed the flush on his cheeks and sweat on his forehead. Reaching out, I ran my fingers through his damp hair. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled, "Mom?"

I bit my lip. This kid knew how to break my heart. "It's Kate...c'mon, let's get you on the bed, okay?"

He blinked at me confused, then reality set in and he sort of deflated, turning away and mumbling, " 'M fine here."

I adore stubborn brothers. "No, you're not. You barely fit on this thing, the pillow's wet, and I can't sit with you here. Time to move, Adam." I didn't care if I wasn't acting like his Kate. I knew what needed to be done, having done this a thousand times before, and he just needed to fucking fall in line.

He sighed miserably, torn between wanting to be comfortable and wanting to be left alone. Sorry, you can't have everything when you're sick and hurting.

To help emphasize the seriousness of my orders, I pulled the blanket off him, making him shiver violently at the meager heat loss. He glared at me for removing the one barrier between us.

"I know - you can hate me later. Get in my bed." Without waiting for a response or to see if he'd actually comply, I got up and went to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. I slowly picked one out and wet it down, knowing that he'd need a minute to argue with himself before finally giving in. Sure enough, by the time I got back to the bed, he was in it, struggling to put that sweatshirt back on.

I shook my head at him, setting the cloth on the little nightstand. "No can do - you need to get warm, but a sweatshirt is a bad idea." I took it from him, grimacing at the dampness. "Besides, it's full of sweat and hopefully nothing else." He snorted at that. "We washed a couple, so I'll check later to see if they're dry. If your fever goes down, you can put one on."

The sweatshirt got tossed onto the couch, out of reach. Adam sighed and scrubbed his face. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he huddled into the blankets and turned towards the window. I sighed back and crawled into bed, which startled him. I gave him a _Shut Up_ look, and picked up the damp washcloth.

Positioning myself so I faced him, I folded the cloth carefully, wanting it to fit on his forehead. He eyed me warily, I rolled mine back at him, then placed my palm against his forehead and cheek. They were a lot warmer than I was comfortable with. Adam didn't move, instead watching me intently, his face a mixture of _Please Help Me_ and _Please Go Away_.

I went with the former.

I set the cloth against his burning face, and watched him close his eyes and sigh in relief. He still stayed silent, but at least I knew this was helping. Needing to do more, I scooted until I lay on my side, threading my fingers through his hair. He shivered, which may not have been entirely because of his fever, but I moved closer anyway, letting him know I was there, and not leaving.

When he took a shuddering breath and reached out to grip my hand, I knew what was coming. I rolled onto my back and lifted an arm. Without missing a beat, he slid against me, curling into a ball, face pressed into my neck.

He replaced my hand with my shirt, twisting the fabric around his fist, preferring to mangle my clothing than me. I held him close, keeping the cool cloth on his skin as I rubbed up and down his back. There were tears - I felt them drip down my neck and onto my shirt - but he refused to just let loose. This Adam needed to be more in control. Tears rolled down my cheeks as well, and I wondered, yet again, how many times I would have to comfort a grieving brother.

Adam's breathing slowly got under control, and the death-grip on my shirt lessened somewhat. He stayed in my arms, not even flinching when Dad's key sounded in the lock. All he did was bury his face further, so he was hidden. But he didn't roll away.

There was a pause at the door, then keys jangled onto the table and a jacket was unzipped. A paper bag crinkled, and I heard a box being ripped into. After a little more putzing around, Dad came over and sat next to us, a glass of water in one hand, a couple pills in the other. His eyes met mine.

_Thank you._

I smiled back.

We got Adam to take some Tylenol, and soon after, he fell asleep. Dad stayed with us, one hand on Adam's shoulder, eyes locked on his sick child. Once he was sure Adam had passed out, he patted his shoulder, kissed me on the head, then went to bed.

I lay there, reflecting on each shift I'd gone through. Granted, some I reflected on less than others (like I wanted to relive being shot or hit with a frying pan), but I tried to focus on what I did while there. Did my presence make things worse? What happened once I left and that Kate came back, with no memory of what had taken place?

Was comforting Adam something this Kate would've done? Will she return before he wakes, and freak out because he's close to her? Would that set him back?

The fact that I would never have those answers bothered me. It was so hard trying to act like what was expected and still be myself, who, like in this situation, knew what was needed to make the things better. Was that the right thing to do? Should I follow my gut in something like this or let the train wreck happen?

Adam coughed softly, and curled closer, prompting me to shift a little and wrap both arms around him.

Why even bother asking? When it came to my brothers, there was no line. There was no limit to what I'd do to help them. If that meant going against protocol, and offering comfort when needed, I'd offer the comfort.

I wasn't sure what lesson Uriel expected me to learn from all this. The only thing I learned was how powerful my love for my family truly was, and I figured that would come to bite the angel in the ass someday.

**xxxxx**

Adam's fever must have risen, because he was a fucking furnace next to me. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and while part of me wanted to shove him away, the smart part of me remembered why he was there in the first place, so I laid still and dealt with it.

Until the screaming started.

Then I figured, _hey_, I should probably move and investigate.

I opened my eyes, and yelped. Guess what? Yeah - shifted again.

Everything was red, everything was burning, everything was loud. My skin was on fire, even though no flames touched me. Corpses riddled the bleak landscape, piled high as far as I could see. People, or what I assumed were people, crawled over them, arms outstretched, moaning and appealing to me for help.

I stumbled back a step, and bumped against something that growled. Slowly turning around, I found myself face to face with a dog.

A huge dog.

A really huge dog with glowing red eyes and fur that shimmered like smoldering coal.

It was a Hellhound. Which meant…

_Aw, fuck._

**XXXXxxxx TBC xxxxXXXX**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Previously, in Quantum AU…**_

Adam's fever must have risen, because he was a fucking furnace next to me. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and while part of me wanted to shove him away, the smart part of me remembered why he was there in the first place, so I laid still and dealt with it.

Until the screaming started.

Then I figured, _hey_, I should probably move and investigate.

I opened my eyes, and yelped. Guess what? Yeah - shifted again.

Everything was red, everything was burning, everything was loud. My skin was on fire, even though no flames touched me. Corpses riddled the bleak landscape, piled high as far as I could see. People, or what I assumed were people, crawled over them, arms outstretched, moaning and appealing to me for help.

I stumbled back a step, and bumped against something that growled. Slowly turning around, I found myself face to face with a dog.

A huge dog.

A really huge dog with glowing red eyes and fur that shimmered like smoldering coal.

It was a Hellhound. Which meant…

_Aw, fuck._

**XXXXX**

_**Now…**_

I swallowed and carefully took a step back, resisting the urge to say something stupid like, "Nice, Doggie". After two steps, I realized I was now moving closer to the creepy people crawling over the corpsey landscape. The hound crouched down, and…

...whined. It _whined_ at me, inching closer and nuzzling my hand with its head, which I believe should've hurt or something, because watching that fur shimmer was like watching fire burn.

But it didn't hurt at all. In fact, its fur felt cool and soft.

Figuring I had nothing to lose (I _was_ in Hell after all), I cautiously reached out and buried my hand in its neck. It lowered its head, and as I rubbed and scratched its neck, one of the back legs began to twitch, thumping loudly against...against a couple skulls and I think, a femur.

"She likes you."

I jumped at the voice - partly because I really wasn't expecting to interact with another person, and partly because..._it was Sam_.

"It's interesting that she isn't reacting to the fact that you aren't who you appear to be...I suppose she doesn't know that your consciousness doesn't belong in this body." Sam stepped closer, absently kicking at a person who managed to crawl close. He held out a hand, which the hound licked and rubbed against, requesting more petting and attention.

This..._guy?_..._looked_ like Sam. He _sounded_ like Sam. But this _wasn't_ Sam. It _couldn't_ be. He was just a tad…

"Off? I know...I can't really duplicate the angst he produces. It's not so much an ability thing, I just don't have the stomach for it. Besides, why pretend to be someone else? It's been forever since I was just...free to be myself."

He didn't make eye contact, instead focusing his attention on the hound and her reactions to his affection. I looked around wildly for some means of escape. Which is stupid because, right, _Hell_.

Sam straightened and looked me in the eye. "Do you know who I am?"

I shook my head wordlessly, unable to answer. Swallowing heavily, I stepped back again, clutching the hem of my shirt just so my hands had something to do.

He smiled a little, putting his hands in his pockets. "I _can_ read your mind, you know, and I think you're wrong. I think you know _exactly_ who I am. You just won't admit it."

No matter how much I wanted to, I could not take my eyes off him. I licked my lips and took a shaky breath. He was just a story, wasn't he? But then again...angels were real...and he _is_ an…

_Fuck_.

He chuckled. "I prefer the name Lucifer, please. Satan is a ridiculous name you humans came up with, which really isn't very flattering. But enough about me. I'm _so curious_ about _you_." He took a step closer, and cold dread filled my chest. "Another reality...an alternate timeline...that intrigues me. Uriel must have called in many favors to pull this off."

He stopped right in front of me, eyes boring into mine. All I was capable of doing, was staring back at him. I couldn't speak; I could barely think.

"And I wonder," he murmured, "...could another tag along for the ride?" He reached out and caressed my cheek. My eyes shut tight, terrified of the evil inside my brother's eyes.

"Honey? Tell me what you think!"

They snapped open, and there was Jess, grinning and twirling around, a black leather jacket clinging to her slim frame. The price tag swung around behind her, trying to keep up with the blonde's movements. Gaping, all I could do was frantically look every which way, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

We were in a store, at a mall, apparently trying on clothes, and _hold on a second.._.did she call _me_ honey?

I turned around again, thinking Sam was behind me somewhere...preferably a Sam who wasn't fucking housing _fucking Lucifer _inside him.

No Sam.

"What are you looking for, babe?" Jess asked, curiosity and amusement in her voice. She came over, standing next to me, and looking around the store as well.

"I...um…" No Satan, no hellhound, just a mall, which is really just another form of Hell anyway. And now she called me _babe_?

Jess giggled and kissed me on the cheek. "You crack me the hell up." She took the jacket off, set it back on a hanger, and placed it on a rack. "C'mon, the boys are probably ready to go." She glanced at her watch. "We can grab an early dinner and then...you know...have some alone time." She waggled her eyebrows at me, and rubbed her nose against mine.

Oh. Oh, wow. I honestly had no idea what to say. I had no idea what to think. _She was so close_.

Jess grabbed my arm and dragged me from the store, chattering the whole way. "I heard Dean say we had to be at Bobby's tomorrow. He has some info on a huge vamp nest, so I get to finally use machetes! Soooo excited!" She fake squealed, then rolled her eyes, making me laugh. I couldn't help it - it was funny.

My laughter egged her on. She turned suddenly, facing me, arms around my neck, stopping us in the middle of the walkway. She leaned in, murmuring, "You know, it's a good thing Sam introduced us, or I'd still be with that asshole Brady." What was everyone's problem with Brady?

Why was _that_ the question on my mind when Jess's mouth was practically on top of mine?

In my ear, she whispered, "I think that later, I need to show you how good it is."

Then came the kiss, full on, right there, holy shit, _in a mall_. Now, I'm pretty fucking liberal, and so the concept of a girl kissing me wasn't something that made me recoil. _My brother's dead girlfriend_ lip locking me outside a Gap was something else entirely.

I couldn't watch...it was a bit..._uncomfortable_. But then I figured, if I close my eyes, I might shift.

Was that a bad thing? Better than being in Hell.

So closed it was, and I let the kiss happen.

When I opened them, Jess pulled away, winking, and went back to pulling me through the crowds.

_Goddammit_. _Didn't work._

"Kate!"

I turned towards Dean's voice, more than a little thankful for the distraction. When I turned around, I was in a motel room, Dean in a bed across the room. He lay sprawled on top of the blankets, sweating and shivering.

_Or it did…?_

"C-can you...g-get my b-bag?" He licked his lips and struggled to sit, lips pressed together as a cough escaped.

What the fuck?

"K-kate?" He called out, sharply.

Fuck...okay. rapid-fire shifting. I could do this, right? I mean...I could, couldn't I?

"Yeah...yeah, hold on." Sick Dean - I can handle sick Dean any day of the _what the fuck is going on with my skin?_

I bent down to pick up what I assumed was Dean's bag, when I suddenly became aware of a zillion ants crawling all over my body. A quick, semi-freaked out body check revealed no bugs whatsoever, but I did feel like I just ran a marathon, and seriously, my skin just _crawled_.

It took two tries for me to grip the handles and haul the bag to Dean's bed. They kept slipping through my fingers, which wouldn't cooperate when I told them to curl around the leather straps. Success occurred on the third try, and I staggered to the bed with the prize. I collapsed next to him, hugging myself for warmth and as a constant reminder that there were no bugs on my skin.

What _is_ this?

Panting heavily, Dean struggled to unzip the bag and dig through it.

Sweat dripped down my face and into my eyes, startling me. As I wiped at the stream, I asked, in a very shaky voice, "Are we cursed?"

Dean let out a derisive bark, followed by a triumphant, "Yes!" He held up a toiletry bag.

So...three cheers for a shaving kit?

My sarcasm faded when he took out two hypodermic needles and a vial. My mouth dropped open a little.

"C'mon...w-we need the hit b-before Dad g-gets back…"

Head swimming and stomach churning, I nervously licked my lips and scooted away from him. I looked around the room for...I had no clue...anything else to look at besides Dean loading up those needles. The head movement set off a dizzy spell, and before I could stop myself, I slid off the bed and onto the floor.

I landed with a very uncomfortable thump, yelping in pain. The second my ass hit the ground, I was sitting at a dining room table, a cup of coffee and a generous slice of chocolate cake in front of me. Mary Winchester and my mom, Sarah, were sitting opposite of me.

"- and we know it can be an adjustment," Mary was saying as she stirred her coffee, "but you'll get used to it."

"And you can peek down there any time you want! Just know that it's probably better to wait a while before doing that. It can be a bit depressing to stare at the living, knowing that you can't be there with them," my mom chimed in, pushing the cake closer to me.

Mary nodded and took a sip of coffee. "But we know you'll miss the boys and John, so we know you'll want to watch. Just take one of us with you, ok?"

Judging from their staring, I must've had quite the look on my face.

"Kate?" My mom asked, her face wrinkled up with worry. "Are you okay?"

Mary sighed, replacing her cup on the saucer. "I think she's in shock, Sarah."

"Should we call Samandriel? He's so good at helping souls adjust."

"Maybe…"

I rubbed at my eyes and scrunched them shut. _Maybe…_

"You playin' hide and seek at the age of sixteen?"

_Bobby!_

My eyes snapped open and after making sure he was really there, and not trying to kill me, I launched myself into his arms holding on like my life depended on it.

Which it did.

Not to mention my sanity.

"Whoa, missy! What's wrong?"

"You wouldn't believe it!" I was practically yelling into his shirt, panic ripping through me as I felt his beard scratch my cheek. _I can't lose this!_

"Bobby? What's wrong with Kate?"

"I dunno, Karen! One minute we were talking about her math test, and the next thing I know she's bawlin'!" Awkward hands patted me on the head as the Karen bit sunk in. I grabbed harder, not willing to let go.

That's when I felt it - a tug on my back, sort of like when you're a kid wearing overalls and your parents, needing to get you, pull on the back part. It was subtle at first, then became more insistent. I vaguely remember screaming for Bobby to help, but ultimately, I was yanked away.

I began sobbing at the loss, wanting to curl into a ball and hide in a corner. I settled for keeping my eyes shut and squatting down.

_Kate...relax...I need you to relax…_

_Cas?_

_Yes - please...we're trying to cast a counterspell, but you're fighting us._

Oh, thank God. I willed myself to settle down, taking in huge gulps of air. I ventured to take a peek, noting that I was in a bedroom, sitting across from Sam, who lay very still, staring towards a window.

Behind me, I heard Dad talking, his voice choked with grief. "Cas said it's irreparable. Lucifer just…mangled his mind. I don't…" He broke off, crying.

"It's okay, Dad. We'll...we'll take care of him. That's what we do."

I raised a trembling hand, placing it on Sam's arm. "Kate? You okay?"

A hand rested on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I turned around and was immediately stabbed in the belly, the force slamming me backwards into a wall. A grinning vampire was in my face, twisting the stake with a sickening, squelching noise.

"Fuck you, _hunter_," he spat.

Pain exploded from my insides out, and all I could hear was Sam screaming my name before the vamp's head slid from his shoulders, revealing Dean behind him. I slid to the ground, clutching the stake, not believing the amount of pain pulsing through me.

"Only you would get sick off eating a salad," Sam chided as he rubbed my back and ran a hand across my brow.

"Give her a break, Sam. She ate what _you_ recommended. See why I don't eat that shit? It tricks you." Dean was in front of me, holding out a bottle of pink liquid. "Here, babygirl. It'll help your stomach feel better."

I tried to say something, but couldn't make any sounds let alone words.

"Oh fuck - is she gonna puke?"

"I don't know. It _looks_ like the right size, but it isn't fitting. See here? This is where the screw should go, but it won't."

"Well, I dunno, John. Maybe we should take this stupid shelf back and get a new one."

"But you wanted this one, Mary, so I'll make it work. I just didn't want you to think I was messing it up."

John and a pregnant Mary were each inspecting furniture pieces, when they noticed me staring.

"Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay? Is Dean crying again?"

I shook my head and stumbled backwards. Things were moving too fast - I couldn't get a handle on the circumstances before I ended up somewhere else.

I turned around, and heard Mary say, "Think she's still pissed about the new baby?"

"Nah...she's fine. A quick oil change and tire rotation, and she'll be back on the road. No problem."

"You sure, Dad? I was hoping to take her to the game tomorrow night."

I leaned against the garage wall, watching Dad and Dean work on the Impala. Everything starting looking wonky, like when you walk into a fun house and get to the part with all the bizarro mirrors. Everything started bending a little, first left, then right, then stretching out before snapping back into place.

_Kate...we're close…hold on…_

_Cas...__**please**__...hurry...I can't - _

A gunshot rang out next to me, making me jump. What I saw next, made me yell. Dean, his neck covered in blood that was gushing from a hole just below his ear, slumped on top of me, dragging me to the floor.

I screamed - I couldn't help it - sobbing his name over and over.

"What the fuck are you screaming for, you bitch?"

Dizzy and sick, I looked up just in time for Dad to slap me across the face. "How many times have I told you…"

Another slap, this one drawing blood.

"Don't squeeze the trigger too hard. It'll throw off your aim, and the last thing you want is to miss while a werewolf is coming at you." Adam chose a gun off a table and handed it over. "Now keep your eye on the target I put on that tree and block out everything else, okay?"

I stared at it, noting that I was shivering too hard to even think about touching it.

"Hey...you alright? You're really pale…"

I shut my eyes and clamped my hands over my ears. Tears started to fall down my face, but I was too overwhelmed to actually cry.

"Aw, babe - it'll be okay. You can apply again next year."

A kiss was planted on my forehead, and when I opened my eyes this time, Dean was smiling sadly. Well...wait..._half_ of Dean's face was smiling. The other half was starting to smear like ink being poured on paper.

_Kate! Hang on!_

There was a sound like rushing water, and the scene in front of me bubbled and blurred to the right, as if I was on one of those carnival rides that spun and spun. Every once in a while, I'd catch snippets of conversations, and maybe a face, becoming clear, even though everything else around it was fuzzy and spinning.

"How're we gonna tell Dad you're pregnant?" Sam shrieked, then Dean and Adam tossed flowers into a grave. Sam shot Dad, while Dean held him down, and Bobby and Jody posed on an altar. Adam was in a graduation gown and cap, Cas clapping enthusiastically.

The roar in my ears grew louder and louder, drowning out all ability to think. I couldn't keep track of the scenarios, I couldn't focus on a fucking thing, and I couldn't hear Castiel's panic stricken voice calling my name.

So I did the only thing I could think of, in an effort to take control.

I screamed.

I screamed and screamed, trying to make my voice louder than everything else around me. I wasn't sure if I had my eyes open, or if the images flashing before me were in my head. There were people, mouths moving like they were saying something, but sounds mushed together in the background of my voice. I saw Dad, Dean, Sam, Bobby, some blonde girl, a guy with a beard and baseball cap, an antique black car, Dad again, a cute guy with green eyes, some dude with long hair whose face was all furrowed, a young blond kid, a guy in a trenchcoat, a man with dark hair and a serious face...then faces blurred together and sounds blurred together until I couldn't tell the difference between my screaming and other voices and colors mixed and something pulled on my body and there was a deafening _Boom_.

**xxxxx**

I was falling, like Alice down the rabbit hole. My arms flailed, the force of the fall making my hair whip around my face, stinging my eyes. One arm bent back a little too far, and searing pain shot through my shoulder. I think I yelled, but I couldn't hear anything.

The air around me shuddered, and everything went white...no, fluffy white...oh...clouds...then trees, then _Thud!_

Ground.

Hard ground, and it hurt.

"Holy shit - did you see that?"

"Yeah! She fucking fell out of that tree!"

"Oh my God, is she dead? Please tell me she isn't dead!"

"I don't think she's - hold on...the Queen's coming! Stand aside!"

"Your Majesty...did you see that?"

"I did...I saw...the whole thing. Thank you, knave. You are dismissed."

"But - "

"I said, dismissed!"

There was shuffling and footsteps could be heard shuffling through dried leaves. I lay very still, partly because I hurt everywhere, partly because I had no idea where I was or what was going on.

Someone sat next to me. "I definitely saw the whole thing, and you _did not_ fall from a tree. Out of the sky is more like it." It was the Queen, speaking softly,

I fell out of the sky?!

Gentle hands brushed hair out of my face. "And you sure are a cutie," she murmured. Raising her voice a little, she asked, "Hey there...you awake, oh strange but pretty person who falls from skies?"

My eyes opened slowly. I was exhausted, I was hurt, I was confused, I was staring into wide green eyes framed by intensely red hair.

I swallowed and tried to look around. We were in a forest, which explains why someone thought I fell from a tree. How would I get into a tree, let alone the sky? It wasn't making sense.

"Maybe that could be, like, your Native American name...Pretty She Who Falls From Skies." I blinked at her. "Well, _helloooooo_. I should probably be more freaked out about this, but after my last job, nothing surprises me any more. And somehow I don't think you're a threat. Seriously, you're too cute."

I grimaced as my shoulder flared, and the Queen's face winced in sympathy. "You hit pretty hard, so I'm not surprised it hurts."

"My shoulder…" I croaked, closing my eyes briefly against the spinning branches above me.

"Whoa - okay...no hurling on the Queen! I only brought one pair of britches today, and I will _not_ spar in a dress, no matter how dramatic the skirt swirl is."

I tried to sit up, and with some help from the hovering Queen, I managed to prop myself against a tree, breathing heavily. The world stopped circling, and I was finally able to really look her in the eye. She had a kind face and a nice smile, which put me at ease immediately. She shook her red hair out of her face and grinned at me. "So let's do introductions. Which I'm sure I'll get scolded for, but I really don't think you're dangerous. I'm Charlie. What's your name? I can't call you cutiepie forever, you know."

Her grin widened as she scooted a little closer, making sure I stayed upright.

"Kate...my name is Kate." Wow, my voice is just wrecked.

"Great! Kate...what? Last name?"

I opened my mouth to answer, since the name Kate rolled right off my tongue. But then I stopped cold. "Uh...I don't know…"

Her lips pressed together as she thought that one over. She slowly nodded. "Well, you probably whacked your head when you landed, so it makes sense that you're a little…" She made little circling movements with her hands. "...scrambled."

I had to ask, "Did I really fall from the sky?"

She nodded again. "Yup! Heard this popping noise, like those awesome rolls of bubble wrap which could keep me busy for, like, hours, and then there you were. It was like the universe opened up and spit you out _oh my God_ we need to call the guys. This is so up their alley. Why the heck didn't I think of that sooner?" Her mouth cinched to the side and she appeared to be lost in thought again.

"What guys?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to be something up someone's alley.

She grinned again. "Friends of mine. Super nice. Fucked up line of work, but they'll know what to do with you. Come on - let's get back to my tent and my cell phone. We got bitches to call!"

**xx TBC xx**


End file.
